


The Laws of Hope

by Athedias



Category: Diablo (Video Game), Diablo III
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I'm Bad At Tagging, Love at First Sight, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Original Character, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-23 10:37:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 57
Words: 167,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23710177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Athedias/pseuds/Athedias
Summary: A normal day upon a calm farmstead. A warm sun shining high above. Robert, a young boy of five summers, tends to his chores alongside his family. He is simple: Honest, diligent, and kind. The world is normal, and days of peace and prosperity glimmer in the future. However...fate holds another path for the young boy. One wrought with pain, bloodshed, and glory. This is his tale.
Relationships: Male Crusader/Auriel (Diablo lll)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> An alternate setting tale set in the Diablo universe. This is a duel protagonist story, and my first foray into the field of writing. I have worked some time on this, and decided to post the results. This work is still in progress, and I am open to feedback.

‘ _ Today is a bad day _ ’, decided Robert. His eyes still felt heavy and dim from too little sleep. Nose still runny from his cold, Robert griped internally against Georgie. ' _ I'm not dumb _ ,' he thought with all the anger his young mind could muster, ' _ he's dumb _ .' Trudging out towards the chicken coop, he shivered against the pre-morning chill.  _ 'Hiding my coat is just mean _ ,' Robert decided self-pityingly. ' _ I'm gonna tell dad during breakfast _ .'

Comforted slightly by his resolution, he stopped, admiring the birdsong emanating from the pine-woods around his family's cottage. Robert always liked birdsong. It reminded him of days when his father would pull out his guitar and play funny sounding songs. His father's eyes would dance and sparkle in the firelight while he spun fantastic stories. Only, his father's eyes were tired now. He didn't know why his parents were so worried. He remembered one night he overheard them talking worriedly about "kaaz-ruh". ' _ It’s prolly a plant!’  _ he thought with sudden clarity.  _ ‘Or a worm…’ _

As the sun began to rise, Robert arrived at the chicken coop. They made such funny sounds, and he liked feeding them. Looking through the five scattered hens, Robert noticed two were missing. Ms. White, and Tammy. ' _ I think they got eggs’,  _ thought Robert. Hoisting up the feed, he poured some into the feeding trough. After checking their water, Robert went to check on Ms. White.

As he suspected, Robert found Ms. White roosting with several eggs. "Hey Whitey," he greeted the chicken, running a hand along her side. Her soft downy feathers always cheered him up. Searching under her, he found two eggs and the rock she had 'adopted' a year back. Thinking about that story inevitably made him laugh, and he felt better for smiling.

Promising Ms. White some corn later, Robert left to help his mother finish cooking breakfast back in the cottage. A good boy is a busy boy, his mother oft quoted, and he promised her he was a good boy. He would not be a lair. Never. As he wandered back, Robert saw his eldest brother Michael out 'furrowing' while his father weeded. ' _ Micheal’ _ , he pouted.’ _ Not mean and dumb like Georgie _ .'

"Finished already, Robby?" His mother asked.

"Yeah." He said non-noncommittally.

Turning her sharp eyes to him, he could not help feeling somewhat intimidated. His mother stood at five feet and eleven inches, athletic of build and with the measured grace of a warrior. Her simple clothing looked somehow… wrong on her. As if she was uncomfortable within it.

"Where is your coat, Robert?" She asked far too casually, powerful voice retrained.

"Georgie hid it and called me dumb!" Robert suddenly declared. "But I'm not dumb! He is! I.."

"Going outside in this weather is foolish, Robert." His mother interjected. Walking over to him, she gently laid her hand on his shoulder. Crystal blue eyes framed by auburn hair, she sternly regarded him until he finally met her gaze. "I will speak to Georgie about this," She assured him. "But you could have made your cold worse by going without a coat." When she saw Robert's shoulders slump she realized she had been a bit terse. Dropping her eyes she admitted "Sometimes you just need to think through your problems Robby. You can't just tough everything out."

Robert nodded mutely. What else could he do? His mother had practically called him dumb. Teary eyed, he straightened his back and promised "I'll think more Momma."

His mother smiled softly before bending down and kissing him on the forehead. "I know you will, Robert," she warmly said. "Now," She abruptly stated, "set the table if you would."

Grinning, Robert cheerily went about helping prepare for the morning meal. After restocking the oven, slicing the bread, and arranging the plates his father came in. A slight man, His father stood five feet and four inches. His hazel eyes held the gleam of intelligence, hair scraggly and unkempt . Unlike his mother, his father practically oozed charm and ease. He wore his simple linens like he was born in them. His voice was that of a singer, mellow and rich. Robert enjoyed his father's songs and hoped that maybe he would play one today. "Hello my love," his father practically crooned as he over-exaggeratedly bent to kiss her hand. "and might I ask what fine meal have you graced us with this chilly morn?"

Quirking a half-smile, his mother teased "If you think flattery will work on me you are gravely mistaken, Westmarcher."

Holding his hands to his chest, his father went wide eyed. "Weaving silvered lies to snatch up a larger breakfast?" He asked with feigned innocence. "I would never dream of such an abuse of my talents!" With that he winked at Robert. Robert did not know what that meant, but he always felt a bit embarrassed when his parents acted like this. "Besides," his father continued, "deceiving a daughter of Skovos? Such foolhardiness is tantamount to suicide!"

"Frederick!" His mother boomed, cutting off his final word. "You know you are not to speak of such things near the children!"

Blanching, his father's eyes lost their slowly kindling spark. "Right," he wearily said, "My tongue got away from me, again." His mother walked over to his father and began whispering tersely to him, his father meekly nodding along.

Robert suddenly felt minuscule. He debated with himself over just leaving when he heard something strange. It sounded like goats, but not quite. His parents were still arguing, so he decided against telling them. After a few moments, it sounded again, closer and louder this time. His mother abruptly stopped and stood straight. "Robert," His mother commanded, voice chillingly calm. "Go and get your sister. Now!"

Leaving at once, he heard his mother telling his father to get the boys as he ran to the barn. Inside, his sister, Linda, was finishing milking the cows, who had suddenly grown agitated. "Robert?" His sister nervously queried, "Is something..."

"Momma said to come get you!" Robert practically yelled.

"Why? What's the matter?"

"I don't..." Robert was cut off as he heard something tromping by the barn. It sounded big. Timidly peeking through a knothole, Robert saw something that chilled his blood.

They stood like men, though shaggy fur covered their bodies from head to toe. Looking down, Robert realized they had the legs of goats, complete with cloven hooves. Wearing an array of tattered, loose-fitting clothing and carrying weapons on their backs, the goat-men had powerful looking ram heads. Each of their left horns was colored in a whirling pattern with a strange yellow and blue paint which looked oddly pretty to Robert. Three large looking males surrounded a slighter robed one. As it pulled back it's shawl and cloak, Robert realized it was female. She mewled a few strange sounds to the others, who bleated in response. In the front led a, to Robert, absolutely colossal male. His fur looked even more ragged then the others, and some small patches lacked fur entirely. The beast looked toward his home. He huffed several times rapidly, shook his massive head, and slowly began walking forward.

Petrified in fear, Robert could do nothing as they began approaching his family's cottage. He did not notice as his sister crept up behind him, nor hear her gasp out "Khazra!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Stay here Robert." His sister hissed. He barely peeled his eyes away from the goat-men in time to see her quietly leaving the barn. Robert, terror peeking, followed her with trembling legs. Almost as if perceiving this she rounded upon him, vehemently whispering "Don't follow me! Just stay here! Please." With these last words, he finally looked her in the eyes. Wide. Terrified. Just like his. Finally he nodded. Kneeling down to kiss his forehead, she promised "I'll be back. Just stay here!" He fulfilled her request, remaining still as she left.

Curiosity, however, is not so easily sated. Within seconds of Linda leaving, Robert shuffled his way over to a few broken boards in the barn. Peeking out from the hole, what he saw truly startled him. Standing in front of his home door stood his mother, but something had drastically changed. In her hands she held a wickedly pointed spear. Eyes hard, piercing, and determined. Stance forward and controlled. Gaze locked to the now stationary Khazra, she waited. Two more goat-men were in the rear of their group, both appearing much smaller than the leading males.

For a time, neither his mother nor the goat-men moved. Briefly, Robert fearfully wondered if his mother was actually alive. Seeing her so still unnerved him. Ears tucked back and breathing heavily, the goat-men shuffled in place. More bleating, whining, and lowing signaled an internal discussion among the still unarmed Khazra. Upon dying down, the female walked forward.

Locking eyes, the women regarded each other. Suddenly the Khazra… cleared its throat? In a rough, high pitched voice it began to speak, "Paaa… Pa… Pee… Peac…..Paace.."

His mother interrupted "Peace?" Voice steady but confused.

The Khazra nodded and pointed at the weapons still sheathed weapons of the others.

"Peeace."

"I won't be tricked that easily, goat." His mother nearly spit out.

Ears tucked back, the Khazra shook her head stiffly. "Nout Triiick."

"Then why are you.." Roberts mother was interrupted by his sister emerging from the house, arrow knocked and bow drawn. Seeing this, the Khazra began stamping their feet and baying. The largest male let loose a guttural bawl and drew his weapon. A hand pressed to the male's chest. Bleating rapidly in her tongue the female Khazra seemed to vie for peace.

Robert saw Linda whisper something to his mother, trembling. Whether from fear, anxiety, or anticipation, he could not tell. His mother offered a curt nod. Both women seemed willing to wait. For now, at least.

Sheathing his weapon and snorting, the larger Khazra backed up a step. Heated conversation apparently over, the lead Khazra once more said "Peeace." Several of the others stamped feet and snorted at that.

"Very well." Keeping her eyes to the larger male, his mother said. "We will hear you." Easing her body from its tightly coiled stance, she stood up straight, spear pointing skyward.

Flicking her ears, the lead Khazra made a high pitched baying sound. Stiffly nodding her head, she stated "Gooood." She bayed something in her animal tongue. Flicking their ears the other Khazra seemed to calm somewhat, slowing their breathing and stomping.

The door to his house opened once more. Khazra ears stood up. Spines stiffened. His eldest brother, Michael, strode out. Garbed in some sort of leather armoring, his stance spoke of uncertainty. Brandishing an arming sword he took up position next to his mother. Cautiously, his father stood in the doorway with a razor-like dagger clenched tightly to his side.

The largest Khazra took a step forward and pawed the ground. The Khazra bayed and stamped. Michael twitched and glanced around hesitantly. His mother unconsciously snapped back into her stance. Linda took a step back. Robert saw both groups whisper among themselves. Flashing a grin, his Father stepped forward. Approaching the lead Khazra, he outstretched his hand. "Well, if they..." The largest Khazra interceded between them. His father took a step back, but then reached out again with a smile. "My name…." Halfway to having his arm fully extended, the largest Khazra crashed his head forward.

His father fell limp. His mother lunged forward. Michael cried "Father!" Linda gasped. Robert stifled a cry. One of the smaller Khazra sprinted forward. Gripping her spear firmly his mother powerfully swung the butt to collide with the large Khazra's head. The blow stopped short upon colliding with the smaller Khazra, knocking him to the floor.

Following that brief moment of action a collective breath seemed to be drawn, before chaos descended. The largest Khazra bellowed loud and fierce, drawing his great-ax and stepping forward. His mother's spear flashed, tearing the flesh of the colossus. The beast did not flinch, ignoring the wound entirely. The female Khazra flicked her ears and cried out in her tongue. Following the lead of the male, the other standing Khazra drew arms. One fell to the ground, an arrow piercing his throat. Another stepped above him, and snarled. The female Khazra rushed forward to collapse at his side, and began channeling some kind of magic. His mother clashed with the largest male. Whirling, thrusting, and dodging, his mother moved fluidly, striking like lightning. The larger male lacked any such grace, but he stood firm, swinging his ax in powerfully controlled arcs. Robert looked on in terror. Blood flashed in the morning air as his mother's spear found its mark again and again, opening minor wounds across the Khazra's thick hide. Several Khazra took this opportunity to bull-rush his mother. She evaded one's clumsy attack, but doing so threw her into the path of the other. Micheal, finding his courage, lunged forward and slammed his sword across the Khazra who stumbled into the wall. Crimson smeared his family. The howls of the Khazra chilled Robert's blood.

His mother writhed like an eel, slipping free from the Khazra who pinned her. She choked her spear and thrust into the Khazra's throat, eliciting a horrible gurgling wail. Then, it happened. Robert yelled out, trying to warn his mother. The large Khazra, ax hefted high, swung down with colossal force and terrible speed. His mother choked feebly as the blow connected directly with her back. Sound drowned out from the horrible racket, only one being seemed to notice his cry. The female Khazra who had finished dragging her injured companion towards the barn. Looking feverishly around, she took off her shawl and placed it over the hole Robert had been looking through. The last sight he saw of the battle was his brother being tackled down by a Khazra, his sister shooting another arrow, and Georgie, futilely pummeling the larger male with his fists.

Robert could see no more of the battle, but he heard it. Michael cried out. More demonic sounds issued forth from the Khazra. Blades clashed. His sister screamed like a banshee, then cried out in pain. A horrible moan came from a Khazra, and pained bleating filled the air. A shout came from the female Khazra.

Finally, the sounds quieted. Robert shrunk up into himself. The Khazra were still bleating and calling. That meant… Robert Shivered, then cried. Softly, fearfully, he cried. Stomping, bleating, and whining echoed out. They all sounded so angry. Robert heard more baying and some odd rushing sound before the Khazra began speaking more calmly. Several whining bays sounded out, long and keening. A loud snap punctured the air. Then three more. Robert sat still, hoping he would not be heard. Slowly the bleats became more distant. Robert broke down into fully fledged wailing. He sat there, shivering and crying for some time. He knew not how long. Eventually, he steeled himself and walked out of the barn, filled with terror.

What he saw shot through his soul. His mother lay on the ground in a pool of red, un-moving. The horrible wound stood from her simple clothing harshly. Under her lay a Khazra, throat torn open. Nearby Michael lay, guts hanging open. Three more Khazra lay scattered around his home. Two bore the marks of a sword's painful lash, and one sprouted three arrows from his chest. All their left horns were missing, which Robert dimly thought odd.

More pressingly, Robert sprinted to his mother. Seizing her, he desperately shook her, hoping to elicit some response. Suddenly, he realized his mother and Michael were dead. Truly dead. The rest of his family were surely dragged off to be eaten by the horrible goat men. Robert wailed to the sky, clutching his mother's body, hopeless and alone.


	3. Chapter 3

In time, Robert roused himself. Quieting his sniffles, he drew a deep breath. Breathing is important. He remembered that. His mother always told him how important his breathing is. His mother…. Robert drew another heavy breath, tears falling freely. With a sudden jolt, he remembered a task left unfinished. The cows were never allowed out to graze.

Painfully, with jerking movements, Robert got to his feet. His body felt stiff, aching with every movement. Keeping his eyes low to the ground, he could not help sniffling. The more he thought, the more his heart hurt. Lost in his thoughts, Robert failed to notice the ajar door, stepping head first into the waiting lumber. Whining from pain, he finally lost control of his somewhat steady respiration. Rubbing the pain from his forehead, Robert began the arduous process of lifting the dead-bolt holding the cows pen closed. Sweating from exertion he fumbled several times before the bar clattered to the side. The cows still seemed spooked though several soft words from Robert eventually calmed them.

With placid gait, the three cows exited their pen. Robert followed along, wishing he could share their easy attitude. A low rumble interrupted his musing. This rumble continued emanating from his stomach for a few moments accompanied by the dull ache of his hunger. Reasoning that no harm could come of it, Robert decided to see if his mother had finished making breakfast before… He shook his head, eyes welling up. Studiously ignoring the bodies strewn before his home, Robert entered through the open door.

Finding an array of bowls filled with cooked cereals, Robert took his usual place at his family's table. His favorite bowl, favored for the funny face he saw in the twirling knots, sat empty before him. Briefly stopping to consider, Robert swapped his empty bowl with his eldest brother's full one. Robert began to eat his cooling food. The food tasted far worse than he ever recalled. Saltier than he would have liked, and lacking the dollop of sweet carrion-bat honey his father always sneaked him with a conspiratorial wink. Smiling in memory of those happier times brought to mind one specific instance when his father had returned from fetching some.

_ Robert, helping his mother prepare the evening pie, happily peeled potatoes. So enamored with his task, he did not notice his father's entrance until his mother began scolding him in a low voice. Back and forth they argued. Robert suddenly felt much more glum about being in the kitchen. After several tense moments, his father finally said loud enough for Robert to hear "Yes it is dangerous Nedilli." His voice held a strength Robert rarely heard. "But you know well how the children adore it." _

_ Abandoning the pretense of hiding their conversation from the young boy, his mother replied in a wearied tone "Yes Frederick, but it..." _

_ Vehemently, his father interjected "No. No buts my dear. I'm not an invalid." Growing heated, his voice slowly rose somewhat in volume. "I've sat around barely carrying my weight for far too long. We both know that I can barely dig a ditch, let alone run an entire farmhouse. My skill-set is completely and utterly incompatible with this lifestyle! If running into those blasted fields and taking a few flesh wounds can bring a smile to their faces, I say it's worth it! How am I supposed to help this family if not through blood and sweat? How!?" He nearly shouted as he finished. _

_ With that, Robert risked a glance towards his parents. His father stood in the doorway, garbed in a large cloak and carrying several jars of honey. His mother rigidly affixed herself some few feet away, rooting him in place with a terrifyingly cold gaze. His mother then spoke out in an even tone "Do not interrupt me Frederick." His father seemed to look abashed, turning his look earthbound. "My concerns are valid." She continued. "You are no fighter Fred." Her tone had softened considerably. "I am not completely content here either, but I do not go running off at the first call of adventure. I have a family. These children need their mother." She approached his father, and set her hand upon his arm. "And they need their father." _

_ Releasing a deep sigh, his father nodded. "Right." He said in a steady tone. "But," He looked up with that gleam in his eye, "I'm not going to stop. Their smiles are simply too beautiful. I will take more care though. Perhaps let you teach me how to shoot that bow..." _

_ His mother drew him into a hug softly murmuring "That's all I ask Fred." After a moment, they both separated, and his mother said in a somewhat haughty tone "And you could likely never even draw that bow, your arms being the twigs they are." She sniffed dismissively as she turned back to the stove-top. His father grinned and began to whisper in her ear, eliciting a blush and a mischievous smile. Robert turned back to his peeling, simply glad that they had stopped fighting. _

Scraping his spoon against his empty bowl brought the young boy back to the present. Tears fell afresh into his now empty bowl, and after struggling for a few moments he began to clean up from breakfast. Placing the last bowl into the washing pail, Robert finally realized that he didn't know how to run the farm. With this, he collapsed into a corner and wailed aloud. Pain streaked through his chest, eyes, and head as he let let loose in a torrent of misery. Clutching his hands to his eyes, he felt his tears streaming through them. After a time, his wails softened to cries. Rubbing his irritated eyes, Robert finally stood. One more task stood before him. He recalled clearly when his family's dog had died. His mother buried the poor thing and explained what happened to the young children, and what to do when something dies. Walking outside with newfound resolve, Robert went around the rear of the house to grab his father's shovel.

Exiting, he was assailed with the horrid smells lingering from the sun-scorched corpses. He had to rub at his eyes when they started tearing up again, and scrunched his nose against the acrid air. Bitter. Musty. Nauseating. Robert stumbled around the bodies, clutching his nose shut against the offending odors. Above, the birds continued their carefree songs. Robert could not understand how they could sing when such tragedy so recently occurred. The sun shone uncomfortably bright overhead, and Robert shivered despite the suffusing heat. Opening the door to the tool-shed and entering allowed some brief respite from the oppressive heat. Taking down the shovel Robert swayed momentarily from the weight before righting himself. Dragging the shovel that nearly equaled him in size, he approached the front of his house again. Gritting his small teeth, Robert began to work.

Two graves. Robert decided against burying the evil goats. With a mighty heave, Robert stabbed the shovel into the ground. Pushing fiercely down he made some progress. After a moment, he realized simply hopping on the shovel made more headway. Once, twice, thrice he hopped on the shovel-head. Bracing himself, he then levered back on the handle. Straining his arms, Robert precariously maneuvered the laden shovel over several steps. Wincing with the effort he deposited the earth. Taking a moment to calm his breathing Robert looked over at his hole. Not large. He drew himself up and walked back over. Sticking the shovel once more into the loamy soil, he braced and hopped. Four more shovelfuls he carried over to his pile before collapsing onto the ground sweating and panting. Cruel heated rays mocked his slow process, and Robert felt close to tears once more. Breathing in, he rubbed his eyes and walked back to his hole. Tiny face grimly set he positioned his shovel again. Time passed. Robert lost himself, body sore and aching, into the work of his digging. As he braced himself to begin hopping many hours later, he heard something incredibly strange. A woman called out. Looking over towards the sound, what he saw dumbfounded him.

There, walking down the road towards his home stood a tall woman with blonde hair and calm blue eyes. Over her body rested an entire suit of fully fledged plate mail, colored black and layered in strips. On her back rested a white….shield. The shape seemed somewhere between a blend of a kite shield and box shield, easily of a size to be considered a tower shield. Embossed across the entire front of the shield was a simple black shape that appeared as a blunted trident resembling a cross. This same shape stood out on her white tabard. On her side rested a heavy flail, and Robert could not help but notice that her armor seemed far too large and heavy for her.

"I said 'what happened here?'" Her voice, robust and calming, broke him from his observations.

Panicking Robert merely stood in place, trembling. Slowly, this woman approached him. "It's all right child." She began in a soothing tone. "It's all right. What is your name?"

Feeling somewhat more confident, he responded "Robert. What's yurs miss?"

Smiling gently, the woman spoke "Kasalis."


	4. Chapter 4

"Now, Robert." Kasalis started again. "Please. Tell me what happened here." Kneeling down to eye level, she rooted her friendly gaze on him. Patiently, she waited.

"I… I.." Robert choked out. "My… my…. m...m.." Tears trickling down, Robert saw the flashes in his mind. Blood. Darkness. Shouting. Bleating. The stench struck him firmly once more. He shrunk down. Curling in on himself, Robert sniffled.

"Robert. Robert." Kasalis tenderly called. "It is all right. The danger is gone. Listen to me. It is all right." She continued soothingly chattering at him. Kasalis desperately wished to hug the poor child, to bring him some comfort, but ultimately resisted. Until she learned what happened, caution would serve her better. Meekly, Robert peaked his head up while she spoke. "Your what, Robert?" She questioned when he seemed more grounded.

"My… Famly." He quietly replied. Robert once more buried his head beneath his arms.

Suddenly Kasalis understood. Another raid. Another family torn asunder. More senseless violence _. 'What was it this time _ ?' She could not help but wonder. ' _ Demons? Khazra? Bandits? Beasts?' _ Casting aside her reservations, she moved forward and embraced the frail child. Minding the crushing weight of her armor, she held him. "You poor child..." she muttered to herself.

Robert stiffened up. Seconds later, he deflated and let this strange woman hold him. Her armor, warmed by sun and exertion, almost felt like hardened skin as she softly held him. Exhaustion Struck him. Finally claiming its due, he felt his mourning and efforts crashing in. Snuggling into her shoulder, he returned the embrace. Feeling safer within her arms, he drifted to sleep to the sounds of her steady breath and the cool evening breeze.

Once the boy's breathing slowed, Kasalis cradled him and stood. Casting her gaze to and fro, she sought a place to lie him down. Briefly, she considered finding his normal resting place. His home stood mere feet away. Yet something stopped her.

Perhaps he would sleep more easily, but waking… waking would be torturous. Rousing in the morning to the image of normalcy, questioning if it only really was a nightmare, only to find even that small hope dashed.

"No," she decided, 'I'll set out my bedroll for him. Find my own place to rest.' Plan formed, she placed him on the ground as softly as she could. Setting down her shield, she retrieved her knapsack from behind her. She quietly withdrew the ratty bedroll within, and spread it out.

Lifting Robert gingerly she looked down at his sleeping form.  _ 'So frail' _ , she morbidly. ' _ One misplaced strike… one arrow... _ '  _ Exhale. Inhale. Recite the laws _ . Following her mentors old instructions soon dispelled such thoughts. She placed his sleeping form down and gingerly covered him.

Kasalis cast her gaze down the road. She chuckled with a rueful grin.  _ 'Another night spent on the ground _ '. She glanced down to Robert. ' _ At-least this time with some company.' _ Quietly she shed her armor, leaving only shirt and leggings. Setting her flail within easy reach she placed her knapsack under her head to provide some cushioning. Eventually sleep claimed her, towing along fitful dreamings.

_ Incandescent flashes of gold. Sparkling blue, grand and mysterious geometric shapes of glittering azure. Premonition. Suddenly, as if it had been there all along, Horrid streaks of red blazed through the tranquil scene. Anarchy. Desperation. Desolation. Shapes and colors once splendorous reduced to dull, tattered mockery. An unending tide of black reached out from the void, consuming all in its path… _

Gasping back to consciousness, Kasalis sat upright, grasping her flail. Desperately searching for the threat, she looked to and fro. Sweat falling from her brow, she reined in her breathing. ' _ No threat _ ,' She thought.  _ 'Just a dream. That same one as always… _ ' With clarity came the same burning need to travel west, originating somewhere beyond her consciousness.

Stretching the aches from her rough night she stood. Sighing heavily she began her morning routine.  _ 'Surely another vision from Akarat _ ,' She reaffirmed to herself. ' _ Something important _ .' Withdrawing one of her two loaves of stale bread, a section of smoked beef, a chunk of hardened cheese, and a dried slice of apple she set about preparing a morning meal.  _ 'Why else would I wake with such a need to journey west _ ?' She asked herself rhetorically.  _ 'Course… _ .' she mused. ' _ It could just be a dream _ .' Dismissing such treacherous thoughts, she finished her meal preparations. She followed the… whatever it was this far… she would follow it further.

"The Light is my shield, the Light is my guide." Speaking through her morning oaths soothed her fraying mind. "For the Light I shall fight. For the Light I shall die. I shall not tire. I shall …."

"Was tha mean?" Piped the small voice to her left.

Startled by the sudden intrusion Kasalis jerked upright. ' _ Right. The boy _ ,' She chastised herself.  _ 'Getting sloppy, are we old girl? _ ' "Uh… Robert right?" The boy nodded. "Well, Robert. I was saying my morning…. prayers." She regarded him with a patient smile. ‘ _ Easier to explain than oaths at least’ _ .

"Why you say those?" The bleary eyed youth queried. He sat, knees drawn to his chest looking expectantly yet hesitantly at Kasalis.

"I...well..." She rolled her shoulders. I did not think I'd be discussing philosophy this early. Recollecting her thoughts, "To… I say them too let the Light know that I am still faithful and doing its will." Hoping that would be enough to sate him, she returned to her morning meal, realizing she would need to share some of it with the boy. ' _ One third to him? One fourth? How much food does he need?' _

"Whys tha light needa know you faifful?" Robert more confidently intruded on her musings. His head looked up and towards her now. His eyes seemed more alert and wakeful.

"I…. uh…. To…." Kasalis huffed in irritation. _ 'I don't know, child _ '. She berated herself and the boy mentally.  _ 'How would I know what an omnipresent concept thinks? Or why it needs oaths?' _ "Robert… you…. You must be hungry right?" She smiled in what she hoped was a matronly way but in reality cracked through with desperation.

"Yeah!" Robert practically yelled, head jerking up and eyes gleaming. Remembering himself, he immediately ducked his head back down and mumbled out "Uh… I mean yeah." Cautiously he peeked up from his arms.

Kasalis grinned at him. "Don't be ashamed of your enthusiasm." She said humorously. "Everyone needs to eat, and I did offer."  _ 'One fourth. That should be enough.' _ Pulling a knife from within her rucksack, she began cutting off sections for Robert. His eyes tracked the knife greedily, stomach rumbling. Kasalis presented the cuttings to him with a chuckle, fondly smiling as he began to devour his meal. "Careful there." She cautioned, repeating the words her mentor drilled into her. "Eat slow, and chew well." ' _ A bit hypocritical, don't you think? _ ' She mused. ' _ You always hated hearing the old codger say that _ .' Sighing in remembrance, she took her first bite. Bland. Dry. Nourishing. Irrational irritation flashed through her. ' _ Can't host well with rations _ .' Huffing, she mechanically continued eating. Looking over to Robert, she couldn't help but laugh, quickly coughing to stifle the sound.

Legs now folded beneath him, Robert sulkily ate. Face scrunched up, eyes alight, he nibbled painfully slow at the segment of cheese.  _ ‘I'm just hungry, but Mama told me 'Be polite. Respec your elders _ .'' The boy cast his gaze to the ground, eyes stinging. Finding himself no longer so hungry, his eating slowing apathetically.

Noticing the rapid change, Kasalis quietly finished her meal. ' _ Best to let him alone _ .' She thought sourly.  _ 'Needs to learn how to cope. Much as I don't like it, won't always have a shoulder to cry on. _ ' Decision made, she turned her thoughts back to the odd dream. ' _ It felt far too real to be a simple dream _ .' As always, doubt crossed her mind. ' _ Could be a simple nightmare. Not a prophet after all. Could all be coincidence.’  _ She pulled her knees to her chest, suddenly wracked with indecision. ' _ I'm just some lumberjack's daughter… it couldn't really be a vision, right? _ '

Robert rubbed his eyes. ' _ Momma…. Mikey….Lindy….Poppa….Georgie…. They all gone.' _ His voice echoed mercilessly within. ' _ Jus like Ms. Penny. Chopped up and gobbled down by evil kazraw _ .' An ephemeral wind pierced through him provoking a shiver from its chill. ' _ Gone. Gone. Gone…. _ ' The word bounced within his hollow chest. His eyes ached and burned with sorrow, yet he could not muster up any tears. All strength fled him, mind flipping through the events of yesterday. He tried to remember everything they had ever said. Sorrow crashed upon him. He recalled nearly nothing. Loose fragments of memory drifted listlessly through oblivion.  _ Georgie stealing his coat. Georgie telling their mother that the wound Robert gave him was of his own doing. Linda teaching him how to string a bow. Linda calling him a dull brat. Michael talking of his 'lady-love' with eyes hopeful and shining. Michael slapping him and yelling in a drunken stupor. Michael hugging and weeping as he apologized. Poppa hoisting him up and signing a funny song as they worked. Poppa reciting a soft sonnet of sorrow when he thought no one could hear. Momma scolding and fighting with poppa quietly in the night, terrifying in their manner. Momma whispering sweet sounds and comforting poppa quietly in the night, soothing and calm. Momma making Robert promise, to swear to her that he would be good when she caught sick. _

Robert bit his thumb, not realizing he finished the cheese. The dull pain shocked him back to reality. Alone. The thought refused ejection. Robert drew his knees to his chest, huddling against the intangible cold. He cast his gaze up. Across from him sat Kasalis, pose mirroring his own. Robert felt something stir in his chest. ' _ She mus be sad too.' _ He realized. Wasting no time he stood. Robert walked quietly to her and patted her shoulder. "Der der," he encouraged. "So'kay."

Kasalis flinched slightly when he patted her. She looked to this boy and saw concern in his eyes. ' _ Concern? Really? He just lost his family, heavens, his  _ life _. _ ' Kasalis smiled and hugged him. "You're right Robert. It is alright." She could not help a light-hearted chortle. 'What a precious child.'

Robert released the hug. Looking to his home, he asked "I… I neba burryed my famly..." He could not quite bring himself to request aid.

Kasalis easily perceived his intent. "Would you like me to help?" She gently queried. Robert quickly nodded. Standing, she placed a hand on his tiny shoulder. "Come then." She encouraged as they walked. "We will do this together." They walked to where his family fell. Seeing Michael and his mother, Robert gasped, and stifled a sob. Kasalis gently squeezed his shoulder. "It is alright." She reassured. "We can do this." Grasping the shovel he abandoned earlier, she walked to the respetable hole. She straightened her back and thrust into the soil.

' _ Toil always did soothe me _ .' She mused as she dug. ' _ Something received from father, I'd wager _ .' She chuckled in memory of her parents.  _ A powerfully built and simple lumberjack, whistling and enjoying the woods alongside an annoyed merchant woman. She danced in between trees, singing back the chorus to her rosy-cheeked father, mother begrudgingly whistling along. Her father suddenly bellowed out to her, changing the song and lyrics…. _

"Ms. Kassliss?" A voice intruded. She jolted to awareness. The grave lay half complete. Robert apparently found a spade, from which he paused in his digging. "Ms. Kassliss, why we burry people?" His innocent eyes looked up to her, curious and mournful.

"Ah, well." She paused, wiping sweat from her brow. "That, is an important question Robert." She thrust into the earth. "We bury our fallen," She deposited the soil. "To honor them. And say 'farewell'." She thrust into the earth. "We commend the slain," She deposited the soil. "To the earth to protect them." She thrust into the earth. "We bless their souls," She deposited the soil. "To bear them directly," She thrust into the earth. "To the lights embrace." She deposited the soil. "If we did not bury our dead," She thrust into the earth. "Villainous fiends," She deposited the soil. "Like necromancers," She thrust into the earth. "Might," She deposited the soil. "Defile," She thrust into the soil. "Them!" She deposited the soil.

Robert cautiously spaded into the forming grave. He tried to hide confusion from his face.  _ 'Don’ know wha tha means.' _ He pouted internally.  _ 'Souns importan.' _ Soon he no longer reached the bottom. Kasalis paused to hoist him down. Moments later she followed down. Dirt moved. Breaths heaved. Robert slowed. Arms aching, he decided to rest.

Kasalis heaved another load of earth from the hole. She thrust down.  _ 'Another few inches _ .' She decided.  _ 'That should be deep enough _ .' She heaved more soil. "Alright Robert." She turned. "That is deep enough." Kasalis lifted him by the arms to the cusp. Following, she pulled herself up. "One more to dig, I think." Wasting no time she began the second hole. Thrust. Heave. Thrust. Heave. Thrust. Heave. Pause. She turned to Robert, sitting and looking to the ground. Pity surfaced, but she begrudgingly set it aside. "Come now." Voice low and gentle. "We are not done. We will rest soon, I promise." Vision locked to him, she waited. Seconds later he nodded minutely and got to his feet. They continued.

Finishing the second grave, she hoisted Robert out and followed again. "Alright." She panted. "The hard part is done." Steadying her breathing she stretched her aching muscles. "Are you ready to finish this Robert?" She smiled to him, patiently awaiting his answer.

Dread welling up, Robert nodded. "Yeah." The subdued response came. Kasalis nodded gravely.

"Let's retrieve them then." She quietly said. Kasalis beckoned and Robert followed. Arriving at the site of battle, she suppressed a gag. The bodies had begun to fester in the blistering sun, and the massive wound in the mothers back seeped. Hefting the stiff body of the woman, She spared the boy a glance. Robert dejectedly tracked after. Her heart twisted itself. ' _ No one should have to endure this. _ ' She thought, true anger rousing within. 'To see your family slain, your mother butchered...' Teeth gnashed. _ 'I will be sure to slay many khazra for this atrocity. _ ' Gingerly as possible, she lowered the body into the grave. A short walk later the corpse of his brother rested in its twin.

Respectfully she began filling them with soil, tamping periodically. She worked in silence, unsure of what to say.  _ 'If there is anything to say _ .' Her rationale offered her. "Robert…. I….." She haltingly initiated. "This…. I..." 'Surely some words of comfort could be offered now.' She turned to regard his slumped form. Her wavering resolve crumbled. "I'm… so sorry." Tearing her gaze away she focused exclusively on the task at hand. Painful silence reined. The wind itself seemed diminished. In silence she completed her work. She set the shovel aside. ' _ One more step, and they will be safe.' _ The thought brought her some relief.

"Robert, would you care to assist in blessing them?" The quiet question intruded upon his ruminations. Robert turned to her. In her hand she held a…. cross? Attached to a chain hung a miniature of the symbol of her armor. She awaited his answer, patiently kneeling before the graves. Hesitantly he nodded and knelt beside her.

"Here, hold this." She held out her symbol. Once the boy retrieved it, she continued. "Focus your faith…. Your love for your family and your own good spirit into this." She mimed a pose for him to imitate. "Ask of the light to protect your fallen in their rest, to take them back into its embrace." She inhaled and exhaled. "It will answer if your heart is true."

Robert regarded the small cross in his hand. It sounded much too easy. He grit his teeth. ' _ For momma. And Michael _ .' He imitated Kasalis' pose, and tried to 'focus his faith.' He sat, clenching muscle and shifting uneasily. Seconds passed. Minutes wafted by. His head started to hurt.

"You can't force it." Kasalis whispered. "Believe me, I have tried." She grinned ruefully. "Just… Do what comes naturally. Don't strain against it." She returned to her pose, muttering prayer.

Robert pinned the cross with his eyes. Then he breathed. In. Out. In…. Out…. He looked to the cross. Then he brought it to his heart with both hands. "Please Mr. Light. Protec momma and Georgie." He felt some glorious warmth burn from his core into the sigil. Pain swept through him, eliciting a gasp. Immediately a dull light scrawled itself over the graves in a simple pattern. He stared in wonder, enraptured by the fleeting display, pain forgotten.

"Excellent!" Kasalis beamed at him. Her exclamation startled him in motion.

"Did ya see that!?" He demanded. "I…. Did somethin!" He stood, nearly jumping for joy. "I did it Ms. Kassliss! I did it!"

"Yes. You certainly did." She smiled warmly. "Allow me to finish my wardings, a moment." She ducked her head and raised her arms. A dazzling gold shimmered forth, enveloping the area and beyond. Suddenly it vanished, nothing remaining but a small glow emanating from the grave sites. "That prayer always takes a toll." She chuckled weakly as she stood, suddenly lightheaded. She turned to Robert, and nearly burst into laughter.

Robert sat, mouth agape staring at Kasalis. ' _ Tha…. Tha was great _ !' He closed and opened his mouth to barrage her questions. Perhaps sensing this, she raised her hand and allowed laughter, true laughter, to escape.

"Now, I know that looked impressive." She spoke between laughs. "But it was merely a greater version of what you did." Eventually she quieted her mirth and continued speaking. "So, have you ever channeled a miracle before?" She quirked an eyebrow, smile wide.

'"Miracle?"  _ ‘is tha wha tha is _ ?' Robert shook his head. "No." He squeaked.

Kasalis' other eyebrow followed its twin. "Truly?" She queried. Robert nodded. "Then what you accomplished is far more impressive." She stood, brushing the dirt from her trousers. "You have a talent Robert." She started towards her bedroll. "I would hate for you to waste it."

Robert scrunched his brow. "Whas tha mean?" He followed hesitantly.

Kasalis grimaced. "Well..." ' _ Akarat's teeth I've been dreading this.' _ "Do you know what I am Robert?" She grabbed her rucksack, easily stowing away her possessions.

Robert quietly replied "No." He stood several strides away, watching her. Anxiety rose within.

Kasalis compacted her bedroll. "I am a crusader, Robert." She looked back at him. Viewing his blank expression, she sighed. "I am a warrior of the light, sworn to destroy the darkness and find redemption." She set aside her neatly packed supplies. "My duty calls me." She grit her teeth. "I cannot stay here."

Robert's heart sank. ' _ Can't stay? But _ ...' "Wha… Wha abou me?" His tiny voice trembled.

Kasalis hunched her back. "I do not know." She began to don her armor, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

Desperation seized the boy. "But….. but I don't know wha to do!" He gripped her leg in panic.

Kasalis did not react. She placed her breastplate on. "I know Robert." She said gently. "I am so sorry." She placed her hand on his head. "The crusade calls. I cannot answer it with a child in tow."

Robert sat, stunned. "You… jus gonna leave me?" He choked through his terror.

Kasalis strapped on her gauntlets. "I wish it could end differently, but I have no ideas where the nearest town may be. I...I can't bring you with me. You could follow me for a time, but sooner or later..." She breathed deep, lungs shaking. "It is better to leave you here, where one of your neighbors could find you...Goodbye, Robert." She grabbed her equipment.

Robert lunged to her. "Wha… wha if I was a cusaduh to!?" He cried out.

Kasalis' voice broke. "You don't know what you're asking, little one." She dropped, hugging him fiercely. "It is a life of sorrow, do not follow this path, I beg you!"

Robert tucked his head into her shoulder. "I don wan to leave you, please." He held his breath.

Kasalis tearfully patted his head. "Okay…. Okay…." She began to stroke his hair. "You will be my apprentice, alright? That means that you must obey me. If I ever tell you to do something, you must follow my word immediately." She broke their embrace to hold his cheeks. "Do you understand me?"

Robert nodded. He smiled wide. She gently returned it. "Let us get your initiation out of the way then." She stood, motioning for him to do the same. Stepping back, she placed her shield in front of her. "Robert!" She boomed authoritatively. He snapped straight up, timidly looking to her. Seeing her smile relaxed him. "The crusade calls. Do you hear the clarion?" She gave him a slight nod.

"Y...Yes." He stuttered.

Nodding she continued "To join this righteous cause, a crusader must vouch for your steadfast and loyal soul." She paused a moment. "I would vouch for the heart of this one." She paused again. "Sister Kasalis has vouched in your name before this tribunal, any dishonor or breach of conduct will bring shame upon you both. Is this acceptable?" She locked her gaze to his.

Robert slowly nodded. "Yes." He squeaked.

"Then Robert, swear upon your honor the warriors oath of loyalty, and join our quest." She paused. "Repeat after me: To the light I entrust my soul. The light shall be my shield and blade. For the light I shall do battle, and for the light I shall die. I shall not cower, I shall not tire, and I shall not be found wanting. In the light I am whole." When he had repeated back the last phrase, she struck her shield. "Then I entitle you Brother Robert, apprentice to Sister Kasalis. May you find redemption for yourself and our order." Dropping her facade, she placed her shield upon her back. "So, 'brother', feel different?"

Robert shook his head. "No..." He whispered.

Kasalis ruffled his hair, "I did not either." She took up the rest of her gear. "Come, we must be away, though first we should take what food we can from your household." She gripped his shoulder gently. "Wait for me here please."

Robert sat where he was told, mind running rampant. Several minutes later, Kasalis re-emerged bearing a sack of food stuffs appropriated from his dwelling. She gestured at him to follow, and tossed a chunk of dried beef to him. She began to talk as they walked, speaking of some first lesson but Robert looked to the trees. They meandered to the road, the one he never tread upon before. They followed the path to a hill, where Robert gazed out upon the land, eyes straining for every detail. He finally broke from his trance as Kasalis patted his back.

"Come Robert, the world awaits us."


	5. Chapter 5

Tagaan breathed the musty air. He snorted, clearing his snout. Everything blurred. A sharp jabbing pain speared his head. Mewling in discomfort he attempted to stand, only to be brought short by tightly packed furs. Frantically, he scanned the room. Dark. Insulated. Homely. His panic abated as he realized he lay in the shaman's hut, carefully tucked in one of her guest beds. He calmed his breathing and assessed his situation.  _ No pain in legs. No pain in chest. Arms sore. Head dizzy. Vision somewhat blurry. _ He flicked his ears in irritation. ' _ No real harm then. _ ' He settled back into the cot.  _ 'Best wait. Don't want to upset Shaman Rika. _ ' Resigned to his fate, he allowed his eyes to wander over her humble abode.

His earliest memories of her hut rose. _ A dingy hut, filled with herbs and tightly covered. Second in size only to the chieftains hut. Inside bustled the graying Shaman Raanyawa followed by her dutiful apprentice Rika. He snorted, ears flicking. ‘Older than my father and still an apprentice…’ Lead in as a bleating child, Tagaan whimpered and shook. Wasting no time the elderly nag hoisted him with surprising strength to the available cot. Baying in outraged fear, he whipped his head forward. Startlingly fast the matron smacked her own horns lightly against him. New hurts accompanied his lacerated leg. His head now hurt. And his pride. Tagaan sighed. Idly he stroked his horns, elegantly curled and large. 'Much stronger now.' He chuffed contentedly, allowing the memories free reign. _

_ The matron grasped him firmly by the ear. Silently she stared him down. Nervously he bleated, lowering his head and stilling his ears. Satisfied with his submission, she knelt to examine his wound. Tenderly she prodded the gash. Tagaan flinched. Tears boiled his eyes. Raanyawa began chanting in some strange tongue. Her hand filled with light. She pressed the globe to his gash. Tagaan hissed as the pain melted. His heart slowed. Adrenaline faded. He looked up. His father stood nearby, ears flickering nervously. Realizing he was not alone, he bawled for his father, who immediately set his forehead against Tagaan's. The presence of his father calmed him further, until exhaustion inevitably overtook him. _

The huts entry flap lifted. Tagaan shifted his gaze, alert and waiting. Seconds later a young doe entered. A mere step behind followed Shaman Rika herself. The younger doe anxiously stepped behind Rika, who murmured something in her ear. ' _ Must be an apprentice. _ ' He mused as the woman gathered her courage. 'About time Rika passed on her knowledge.' Stilling his errant mind, he resolved to wait patiently. He lay back, closing his eyes.

Politely the doe stamped her foot. Tagaan opened his eyes and regarded her. Her face determined, she approached carrying a small pot. She locked eyes with him and presented it. "You are to drink this." He found some rebellion stirring in his heart, being commanded so sternly by one near his age. He lifted his head to retort.

She crashed her horns into his. Tagaan let out a small cry. The impact exacerbated his aching head further, dazing him temporarily. Several drops of fluid leaked from the pot. Menacingly she held the pot out. "It is to help you. Drink. It." Eyes sharp, ears tucked back, stance aggressive. Tagaan shrunk back. Meekly he accepted the proffered drink. Hesitantly he sniffed. The doe snorted at him. Tagaan wisely gulped the foul beverage down. He glanced back up. The doe flicked her ears and extended her right hand to him, holding a joori root. "Chew this. No Arguments." Her steely eyes pierced him through.

Feeling some courage return to him he took the root. "Thank you." He mumbled as he champed upon the tuber. The doe snorted dismissively. Tough. Chewy. Painfully bitter.  _ 'The root as well _ '. He petulantly sneered.  _ 'A good batch of joori at least. _ ' While he chewed his aches begin to fade as the root performed its work. He gazed around the room again. Near the entrance, Rika and her apprentice spoke. He strained to catch their conversation. Moments later he realized the futility of eavesdropping while chewing, and unwilling to halt he sulkily turned from the door.

Rika bid her apprentice farewell, instructing her to harvest more joori and pale-sage. Tagaan waited several minutes before questioning the elderly shaman. "So, finally have an apprentice?"

Rika huffed in good humor. "I do need someone to help patch up you 'hunter' types, after all." She bustled to her stone hearth, set into the cave wall. "I'm getting too old to keep up." She tasted the broth simmering there, smacked her lips and flicked her ears. "More sennin." She muttered to herself as she unhooked a satchel from her mantel, presumably filled with the medicinal red thistle.

Tagaan shifted in the cot. "So Rika, who was that doe just now? Not seen her 'round." He sat up, clutching his head to stop it from spinning.

Gazing fondly to the entry way, Rika replied. "Teveeni. I'm not surprised you've yet to met her." She retrieved another satchel, this one far larger, and poured some of its contents into a mortar. Grasping a stout stone pestle, she firmly began crushing together several dried plants. "She is a foundling. From the Moon Clan originally. Not terribly sociable, that one. And for good reason." She ladled out a small portion of the bubbling broth into the mortar. Rika gave him a moment to process the news.

Tagaan felt his blood rise. 'Moon Clan!? What fool brought her to us?' He began vehemently denouncing her. "A child of the lost will forever..."

Rika cut him off. "Will forever remain lost. I know the saying." She wearily regarded him. "And I know also how wrong it is." She quietly hefted the mortar. "No child's fate should be decided by the wrongs of their sires." Her voice sounded… mournful. Rika ambled deeper within. "She is being taught the old ways." She rummaged through a massive wooden crate. Withdrawing a hefty jar she returned his gaze. "Give her a chance Tagaan. The Old Ways say that only through action..."

Rage diminished, Tagaan finished the quote "'Only through action can your worth be measured'." He stood. "You're right, Shaman." He lowered his ears, eyes, and head in submission. "I will wait until she acts to deem her worth." Feeling vertigo as he righted himself he shot out a hand, grasping the cot.

Rika approached, ears flicking fondly. "That is all that can be asked." She gently grabbed his scruff, dragging his head down. Lightly she rested her forehead against his. Tagaan huffed contently. Rika broke their embrace. "Now, your father is organizing a hunting party." She filled the jar with the mortars contents. "Take this to him." Tagaan sniffed, the unmistakable odor of a true healing salve assailing him.  _ 'This will save many lives. _ ' he stiffened. _ 'Wait. Lives. Lives lost. The humans!' _ Memories of the failed diplomatic mission assailed him. _ His father standing in front of him, drawn and puffed up in his full glory. Strange human hoots and barks. Slim humans, women? Wielding weapons. His father whispering of treachery. Anxiety. Rika desperately pleading for his father to sheathe his weapon, to give peace a chance. Terrified banter. His father hesitantly complied. His party of eight shifted nervously. Few humans. Surely, if a fight broke out they would emerge victorious. With their ancestors spirits troubled however… A human male approached, baring his fangs and hooting some foul sound. His father stepped to defend Rika. The human wisely backed away. Then approached baring his fangs once more. Suddenly his father slammed his horns to the human. Cries filled the air. He lunged forward to aid his father. Something struck his temple, and all went black. _

Wrenching himself away, Tagaan stomped his hoof. Rika returned his gaze sorrowfully. "Remembered?" She quietly asked. Her body slumped.

Tagaan whispered "What happened?" He rubbed his head.

"What do you remember?" Rika tenderly inquired. Tagaan recounted his memory of the skirmish, up to his injury. Rika stood, flicking her ears forward in understanding several times.

"Yes. The humans attacked us." Rika approached a cot, sitting in it. "I thought we might be able to talk, share knowledge of The Blight, but..." She exhaled. Her ears drooped. "I suppose they simply cannot trust us."

"How many kin died?" Tagaan gently prodded. Moving forward to place his forehead to hers.

She accepted his gesture, mewling softly. "Four. Four of our kin perished at their hands." She finally spoke, despair palpable.

Tagaan mewled in agitation. _ 'Four more kin severed from the ancestors. This must end! _ ' Fury roused within. He broke their embrace, drawing himself up. "Thank you Shaman Rika." He bowed deeply. "I will deliver this to my father." He moved to the entry. "I will not fail our clan." He left the tent into the bright sun. He did not hear Rika speak "I know you will not."

Tagaan inhaled. He opened his eyes. Surveying his clans village, he exhaled. _ 'Some several hundred kin in and around this village. _ ' He trekked down from the shaman's hill to the village center, allowing his eyes to roam over the homely tents and cave-huts. In the distance He saw several kin plowing fields. He huffed. _ 'Never understood why someone would grow food when they could simply hunt ' _ Baying a short greeting to a passerby, he continued his musings.  _ 'Still. They are my kin. And one day I will be chief of them. _ ' Realizing he did not know his father's location, Tagaan questioned another kinsman. Directed to the cave of elders, Tagaan flicked his ears forward in thanks and departed.  _ 'Father keeps saying "Lead the clan. Don't rule them. Remember the old ways.".  _ He snorted in irritation. ' _ Even if I might not agree, I will not shame my father by defying him.' _ Resolved, Tagaan continued his path through the village. Many kin greeted him. He responded curtly. Mind wandering, Tagaan barely noticed his feet taking him before the cave of elders. The horn guard flicked his ears forward in greeting. Tagaan returned the gesture and entered.

Calm enfolded him. Teal smoke drifted lazily. Inside the world seemed pure and calm. Tagaan followed along the smooth stone walls. He halted before the Clan-Stone, withdrawing a knife. Tagaan looked over the ovular stone, eyes tracing the runic patterns laced throughout its surface. Reverently he sliced his thumb. Wiping a small dollop of blood upon the center of the stone, he felt the protective gaze of his ancestors upon him. _ 'Weaker than when I was young.' _ He grimly thought.  _ 'We will overcome this blight. _ ' Respects payed, he moved around the Clan-Stone down the left passage, into the hall of bone. Tagaan stomped his hoof quietly to alert any mourners. He heard several stomps in return. Ceremony completed, Tagaan crossed into the hall.

His eyes welled with tears as he gazed upon the great wall of horns. The painted left horns of his people lined the walls in patterns, lines and clusters; a canvas of blue and white. Clusters to show families and mates. Lines to show descendants and ancestors. The tapestry of his people. Along the path lay two rows of horns set firmly and distinctly in the floor. The left, the horns of the shaman. The right, the horns of chieftains. At the end of the path lay an unorganized but no less sacred pile, the pile of the lost. Horns from those unable to be identified, without family, or honorable opponents where all placed with great care. The hall would expand with his kin. Currently the cave stretched in an expanding cone, thirty feet at its widest, twenty feet at its tallest, and fifty feet deep. His eyes drifted to the other mourners, a woman and his father. His father sat upon the ground, stroking the horn of his grand-sire tenderly. His fingers trailed the rune carved into the base, reading 'Nazzan'. Tagaan bleated quietly.

His father looked up, flicking his ears forward. Seeing his son, he stood and grasped Tagaan's head softly. Both set their foreheads to the other's. Tagaan trailed his hand to his father's spirit horn, as he did the same to Tagaan. Tagaan's fingers traced the rune that read 'Nostomo'. His father closed his palm around the rune Tagaan knew to read 'Tagaan.' Neither spoke. Tremors of sorrow shook both. His father stepped back, righting himself. He gestured deeper into the hall. Tagaan flicked his ears, following.

Once they secluded themselves, Tagaan spoke. "Father, what are we to do?" He leaned against the cave wall, mindful not to disturb any horns.

Nostomo lowered his head. "Until this blight is cured we cannot risk others." He sighed. "So long as our spirits are in danger, we must be careful." Turning his frame to the burning sigil above their pile of the lost. Fury contorted his battle hardened features.

Tagaan regarded the hated brand. There, several feet above and the left of the sacred pile lay a tiny gray symbol. Two inverted crescents before a dripping circle. The sign constantly leaked a chilling pale fog. Thankfully the fog dispersed inches away from the sigil. Tagaan remembered the night it appeared.

_ A normal evening with family. Chewing upon smoked meats and bread, Tagaan traded banter with his sister, father, and mother. Haaxizan, barely a yearling, suckled at their mother's breast. Commotion stirred outside. Pleasant conversation died. Nostomo stood, walking to the entry of their large tent. Batan opened the tent flap, telling Nostomo "You are needed chieftain." Tagaan winced in memory of the brash war-brave, slain by the foul humans that wounded him. His father signaled him to follow. Standing he joined the two in trotting towards the village center. Along the way he saw panicked kin and alert faces. Arriving at the cave of elders, a throng of kin stamped in the mouth. Nostomo bleated, calling for attention. As one the crowd parted for him. Nostomo squared his shoulders and marched into the sacred cave, Tagaan one step behind. Premonition hung heavy. Further in, bleats and bellows echoed. Together, father and son entered the hall of bone. The sight he witnessed plagued his dreams to this day. A sigil engraved on the wall. Piercing pale blue light. Fog. Evil. Kinsman clutching the horn of his mate, recently perished. A ghastly howl. An ephemeral barb lancing forth into the horn. The ghostly form of a khazra wrenched from within, wailing and bleating for salvation. Kin bellowing in terror and shock. His father charging forward faster then he could follow, striking, pummeling, and scratching the cursed mark with all his fury. Becc, the noble horn guard, screaming in unrestrained fury. Weeping. Terror. Mewling. Sorrow. Nostomo crying out in pain at his rotting, pallid hands. The shaman desperately bringing forth healing magics. Light fading. Terror. _

Tagaan snapped to the present, taking his father's calloused, toughened hands in his own. "The fog is only painful, at least." He muttered.

Nostomo grunted affirmatively, taking his hands back. "We will defeat this foe, Tagaan." He grasped his son's shoulders. "I swear that to you."

Tagaan flicked his ears. "Rika told me you were rallying a hunting party." He stepped back, motioning to the entrance. "What is the prey?"

Nostomo remained quiet. Crossing the threshold from the hall of bone, he whispered. "Human."

Tagaan drew short. "Why?" He asked before thought could interrupt him.

Nostomo breathed heavily, for once looking his sixty some years. "A small band of humans have been skirmishing with kin near the great stone fort." His ears drooped. "They have slain two."

Tagaan mewled in agitation. "We must be careful then. And end this threat." Nostomo flicked his ears forward, exiting the hall. Tagaan hesitated a moment, glaring back at the sigil. '"You will not win, fiend." He venomously spat. "The Sun Clan will never be defeated. I swear this on my life." He bared his teeth. "I will destroy you."


	6. Chapter 6

Robert Exhaled. Chill wind swiped his face, flakes of snow stinging his skin. He flexed, arching arms straining against his heavy fur coats. He stilled himself. _ 'Kasalis said no fidget'in.' _ He sulked, drawing deeper within himself.  _ 'It's just not that easy!' _ Irritation roared within.  _ 'Sometimes my arms hurt, or my nose itches and I cant just ignore them! _ ' As if summoned by his thoughts, an itch began tickling the tip of his nose.  _ 'No! No! Not again!' _ Panicking, he desperately tensed every muscle. _ 'Please… Please… _ .' Roberts faithless pleas echoed futilely. The itch grew each moment wasted. Robert scrunched his nose repeatedly, to no avail. Discomfort pulsed down his spine.  _ 'No! I will not!' _ Robert grit his teeth, determination to ignore the evil growth steadying him.  _ 'You will not win. _ ' He spat to the blight. He recited blessings to himself, stared off towards the spring, anything but pay head to it. His undisciplined mind betrayed him. The itch touched his cheeks. Tears strained against his eyes. With an inward sob, Robert furiously rubbed his nose. Blessed relief flooded his senses. From his left, he heard Kasalis chuckle.

Robert snapped his vision over. From her hiding place among brush and tree, Kasalis bemusedly quirked her brow. She smoothly placed a finger to her lips, eyes twinkling. Robert ducked his head in shame, face reddening. _ 'Just suppos to stay still. _ ' He thought bitterly.  _ 'Can't even do that right.' _ He huddled deeper into his coat. Sorrow clawed his heart _. 'Gonna go hungry again cause I'm jus an 'oaf'' _ . He spat the word to himself.

Kasalis watched as he withdrew in himself. Sympathy tugged her heart. _ 'Boy takes everything so seriously.' _ Quietly, she slung the makeshift longbow she carried over her shoulder. Adjusting the heavy winter coat loosely draped over her form, she stood and walked the short distance to his hiding spot. She sat and embraced him. Draping her own coat over him she rubbed his arms. "Now, now Robert." She whispered. "It's not your fault. It's alright." She began rocking him. "It's alright. It's no grave matter." She stroked his hair. _ 'Lad can be so needy sometimes. _ ' She huffed. Robert drifted along, tension fading. Noticing his improving mood, Kasalis attempted humor. "Besides, I can hardly blame you." She grinned down to him. His teary eyes quizzically sought out hers. "That seemed a fearsome itch." Sheepishly, Robert dipped his head. Kasalis sighed happily and ruffled his hair. She hugged him tightly, sharp eyes returning to the creek.

Robert snuggled back into Kasalis. Raising his eyes, he observed the wintry creek for any wildlife. _ 'Nothin there.' _ He contented himself watching the drifting snowfall. _ 'Staring harder's not gonna create a deer.' _ He ruefully mused. Minutes passed. Soon his mind followed the snow, drifting aimlessly.

_ He envisioned himself resting in front of a cheery fireplace, sumptuous broth stewing atop the hearth. The wind howled outside but no cold could reach within this sanctum. He nibbled upon a piece of well aged cheese, content with the world. Family and friends drifted about, faceless but comforting. Perhaps he could sleep in…. _

Kasalis minutely jostled him. Robert blinked several times. "Look there." She whispered.

Ears flicking, a majestic elk approached the water. Alert, he stopped motionless as she spoke, before apparently deeming such a sound unimportant. Dipping his head, he drank.

Kasalis slowly un-slung her bow. Robert watched on eagerly, waiting for the telltale creak of her bow to signal a lethal shot. Instead, she nudged him. Confused he swung his head to her, alerting the elk. His heart stopped as the mighty antlers rose. Nothing breathed. Seconds passed. The elk snorted and dipped his head. Kasalis' eyes locked with Roberts, message clear  _ 'Don't move so suddenly _ .' Robert slowly lowered his head. Something pressed into his hands. Wooden. Smooth. He looked. Kasalis placed her bow in his hands. Dumbfounded, he looked up. Within her eyes he saw determination, and trust. She nodded ever so slightly. Robert inhaled. Tension boiled within. He shifted ever so slowly to face the elk. Robert drew up the bow, trying to remember his lessons.

Sweat dripped. Heart fluttered. Anxiety rose. Robert breathed in. Out. Faster. Blinked swiftly. He lowered the bow. "I can't." He whispered. He could not take a life. Not like this.

Kasalis squeezed his shoulder. She leaned to his ear. "You can, Robert." She murmured. "You can do this."

Robert nodded hesitantly. He breathed in. Out. Slowly. He raised his unsteady arm. Knocked the arrow. Sighted upon his target. He inhaled. Drew back his bow. Aimed. Exhaled. Released.

The arrow shot forth. The elk trumpeted. It turned, legs wildly kicking, leaping away from the sharp sting. Snow and dirt flew. Red dripped to the floor. Reality crashed back down.

Kasalis cheered, clapping his shoulder. "A fine shot!" She spoke aloud. Robert stood, flush with victory. Her hand clamped. "Now now, we must have patience." Mirth stained her words. "If we chase it now we will never catch him." She dragged him back to sitting. "We needn't wait long. Only several minutes." Reclining against a nearby pine, she flashed him a bright smile. "I knew you could do it. You make me so proud."

Robert meanwhile sat. Mind swirling, abuzz with what he had just done. So much different than the first time he took a life. Unbidden, memory overtook him.

_ Three years after Kasalis squired him, they stopped for several days at a farmstead. Running low on food and tired from the road, the two offered aid around the farm in exchange for a bed and meals. Even though the 'bed' turned out to be naught but a pile of moldering straw outside the barn, the two held true to their bargain. Robert lugged feed to the animals, while Kasalis furrowed a ditch. He entered the barn, smiling at the animals excited for their meal. Then he heard it. Horrible bleating. In a stall stood a Khazra, vilely mocking him. Mewling in a horrible facsimile of a goat. Robert seized up. He threw down the wheat. _

_ His eyes glazed over. Anger surged. He grabbed a heavy object. Hatred boiled forth. Screaming, he hurled himself at the beast. Dimly, his mind thought it strange that the Khazra stood on four legs, only reaching his own height. A dull thumb reverberated through his arm. Another. 'That is what it is like to hit something.' He remembered thinking. Horrible screams and bellows issued from the demon, panicked and trembling. A cacophony of noise assailed him. Something struck him, hard. Again. Hooves dug deep, lacerating his flesh. Warmth spilled from him, and onto him. Thump. Thump. Scream. Thunk. He struck the beast over the head, spilling gore. Eventually it stopped moving. Slowly, Robert came back to himself. Everything hurt. He was bleeding. He looked down. Horror crept upon him. Clenched in his fist lay a bloodied and bent horseshoe, above a mangled goat. Blood filled the nag's stall, and Robert struggled not to retch. He looked into her eyes, glassy and scared. Bile spewed from his mouth. Tears tore from his eyes. Cold crept in. He realized he would die, his savaged arms and legs attesting to it. _

_ He heard a man yelling, horrified and outraged. Something grabbed his tunic. Lifted him. A bearded face roared at him, spitting and yelling. Something struck his face. Agony exploded. Spines of cold pierced through his marrow. A word stuck out amoungst the man's insensible bellows: Oaf. Again and again something struck him. Oaf… Oaf….Oaf...He realized it was the farmers fist impacting him when it struck his nose. He heard Kasalis' voice, terrified. A painfully loud screaming cry tore out. The man dropped him. Robert fell. More thumping and yelling. He struggled to lift his head. He cracked open his eyes. Kasalis stood above the man, striking with merciless fury. Blood sprayed the area. The man stopped struggling. Kasalis kept striking for a moment, before staggering to her feet and rushing to Robert. Darkness descended. _

_ He awoke deep in the forest, bandaged under his woolen blanket. Kasalis poked the fire. He would never forget the look in her eyes as she meekly tended the flame. Regret. Sorrow. Anger. Tears left his eyes before he could stop them. She tensed. Abruptly she stood and strode to him. He didn't remember the exact words said, but she told him that she was disappointed. That because of what he did, they had to run now. That he needed to learn to better control himself. She stomped back to the fire, muttering to herself. He curled in on himself. Chill pierced him, despite the heat about. _

Robert forced his tightly coiled limbs to rest. He sighed out. _ 'No point moping. _ ..' He thought. _ 'I choose to do it this time. _ ' He nodded his head, determined. Regret flashed, quickly smothered.  _ 'Like Kasalis said, "Moping solves nothing."' _ He pursed his lips in discomfort, not entirely convinced. Leaning back, he breathed out heavily, adrenaline leaving his system.

Kasalis observed from her repose, unaware of his internal struggle, but alerted to his distress.  _ 'Might as well pass the time somehow, keep his mind off whatever he's moping over now. _ ' She mused. "Robert." She called out.

Raising his head, voice muted. "Yes Ma'am?"

"Since we're waiting around anyway, we might as well fit some lessons in." She grinned. Robert ducked his head, groaning. Kasalis nearly laughed aloud at his petulant display, before she cleared her throat, asking "Alright…. Recite the Laws of Valor please."

Robert beamed. “I actually remember those!" He jubilantly called out "Engage obstacles with tenacity and fervor! Face the darkness blade in hand!" He shot her a questioning look. At her happy nod, he continued. "Crush those who would oppose the cause. Pity the frail, challenge the mighty." He scratched his head.  _ 'The fifth…. Always the fifth law..why can't I remember?' _ He sat some moments before hesitantly speaking "Destroy any who would harm the innocent?" The sixth law, however, he remembered well. "Show no weakness! Never surrender!" Confidently he sat up straight.

Kasalis beamed. "Perfect! That is absolutely correct!" Robert let out a whoop, reveling. Kasalis allowed his joy for a moment, then asked "What about the Laws of Justice?" Robert snapped his head toward her. Grin wolfish, she motioned him to speak.

Robert grimaced. He didn't know why she always insisted on him memorizing those silly laws. After all, she kept saying that _ "They are mutually exclusive." _ Which she said meant he could only follow one set at a time. _ 'And if that's true, I only need the Laws of Valor. _ ' He shrugged his shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "Remember…. Remember the… the wrong stuff..." He kicked out his heel in frustration. "I don't 'member."

Kasalis chuckled, exasperating his sour mood. "I know that the Laws of Valor are more exciting, and they may be enough for you, but your apprentice might wish to know the Laws of Justice." She spoke, tone soft. "Besides, following those laws your entire life would be a painfully lonely road." Robert huddled deeper into himself. "Robert, look at me." Over-dramatically, he peeked one eye out. "Just try to remember them, alright?" With a jerky nod, he looked away. "Alright, just repeat them after me." She waited a moment, until he confirmed by meeting her gaze. "First: Remember the wrongs done to you and your kin. Second: Exact justice upon those who have sinned. Third: Protect all that have not sinned. Fourth: Allow no demon-spawn or foul consorter to live. Fifth: Destroy all that is abomination. Sixth: Provide no mercy to the unrepentant." Concluding, Kasalis stretched her stiff back.  _ 'Robert followed along attentively enough.'  _ She thought, idly stroking her short hair. _ 'We can get the elk soon.'  _ She drew and exhaled a long breath. The visage of her mentor flashed before her eyes. _ 'Starting to wonder how he managed to teach such a young rascal. Much harder than I thought.' _ "Right." Robert perked up. "Recite the Laws of Hope, and we can get your elk." She found herself grinning at his sudden surge of energy.

Robert kicked his feet excitedly. "I remember them to!" He beamed. "First law: Nurture in your heart compassion and peace. Second law: Kill with… hand?" He scratched his head. Scrunching his eyes together, he set his mind to work.  _ 'Large? Blue?' _ He fit word after word against the saying, desperately seeking the proper fit. Finally he crossed his arms and admitted defeat. "I can't remember.'

"Robert." He looked to her. "Do you want me to tell you?" She quirked her brow, smile warm.

Robert clenched his jaw. "No, I'll remember." He sat. Concentration etched his features.

Hesitance apparent, he spoke "Kill with … heavy hand and heart." A broad smile split his features. "Law three: Doubt not your rightness."

"Doubt not the righteousness of your cause." Kasalis gently corrected.

"Right." Robert nodded, determined. "Law three: Doubt not the righteousness of your cause." He paused. Collecting his thoughts, he continued. "Law four: Protect those who cannot protect themselves." _ 'Always liked that one.' _ "Law five: Judge others on character and merit. Law six: Practice mercy." He smiled, awaiting approval.

Kasalis stood. Brushing snow from her leggings, she praised him. "Excellent Robert. You're improving daily." She hoisted her rucksack. "Now then. Let's retrieve your elk." She stopped and scanned the forest.  _ 'Can't be to careful in fallen territory.' _ Seeing nothing untoward she trekked to where the elk drank. Hoof prints ran clearly through the deep snow, and pink splattered occasionally. Even with drifting snow, the trail stood out plainly. She looked over her shoulder to Robert. He tromped after her, grinning. _ 'Footing is always a bit off _ ….' She mused about his form.  _ 'Can't fault his diligence though. _ ' Inwardly she grinned as he stumbled and scraped his knee, only pausing to frown at it before marching on full of cheer. Turning her sharp gaze towards the forest, she marched forward. Fleeting snow drifted through the evergreen bows. Chill wind gently breezed by. Only their steps disturbed the tranquility.

Robert, immersed within his own mind, failed to notice Kasalis halt minutes later. Nearly stumbling into her, he peaked around her. Some twenty feet before them lay the elk, collapsed against scrub-brush. Fitful breaths wheezed from it, blood trickling from the barb in its side.  _ 'Alive?… But…. I... _ ' His mind blanked. Anxiety rose within. He seized Kasalis' arm, desperately seeking some answer in her gaze.

_ 'Akarat…. I feared this might happen.'  _ She turned, kneeling before him. ' _ A learning experience at least, though I hoped to save this one for later.'  _ Gently she gripped his shoulder. "You only wounded him Robert." His worried eyes flitted to sorrow. "He is starting to hurt from your arrow. You need to finish this."

Panic surged through him. _ 'Finish this? But...what? How!?' _ Before he could stop a torrent of choked words surged forth. "But what do I…. how…. I….. " Tears threatened to spill. "Ma'am I…."

Kasalis shifted her palm to circle his cheek. "Robert." She met his frantic eyes. "It is alright. Take your knife. I will be right behind you." She smiled despite her sorrow.

Robert hesitated. Legs trembling, he withdrew his razor sharp boot knife. Hands quivered. Breathing raked. He stiffened his shaky lip.  _ 'One foot in front of the other.' _ He chanted as he walked.  _ 'One step and another.' _ A deep metallic scent assailed him. The elk's labored breathing quickened. Robert dropped to his knees. Weakly the elk kicked out. A sharp hoof bleed his arm. Oblivious to the pain, he set the dagger a hands breadth behind the shoulders joint. He waited.  _ 'My hands…. Just need to push…. Just push...' _ A pair of larger hands encircled his. Courage stirred. Breathing hitched. Robert set his weight, and plunged the knife deep.

The elk screamed out, weak and mournful. The great beast shuddered. Legs fitfully kicked. Eyes glassed over. Quiet returned to the forest. Robert frantically caught his breath. Kasalis embraced him, driving the chill back. Moments passed as Robert calmed his wild nerves, Kasalis holding him silently. She pressed a kiss to his head. "It is never easy to take a life Robert, but you did very well." She tightened her hug, brushing his hair idly. "Worry if ever such a thing becomes easy. It should never be easy." Whispered Kasalis.

Robert stirred. "Now we gut and dress the elk, right?" Voice diminutive, he broke their embrace. Kasalis nodded. Robert tried grinning. His face quirked up. "I remember how. Let's do it." Kasalis fondly squeezed his shoulder.

Robert pulled back from the hanging elk. Both bloodied somewhat, they returned to the creek. Washing the blood from his hands seemed harder this time. Kasalis nudged him. "I suppose we should fit in some weapons practice tonight." Following Robert's determined nod she continued. "You still need practice with the flail, but your hammer form is good enough. We will start there."

Kasalis drew forth her mace, tossing it to teen. "Come, let us return to camp." After their short hike to their temporary camp Robert retrieved his small wooden shield, sized for a growing boy. Kasalis bustled about, stowing away her rucksack and bow. Flail in hand and shield on back, she jerked her head right. Robert followed, eager for a chance to practice with the mace.

Finding a suitable clearing nearby, Kasalis pointed out a tree. "Alright, warm up and show me what you remember."

"Yes Ma'am." Robert began lightly swinging the mace, a bit too large for him to wield in one hand, through small arcs. Moving his legs forward and back, kneeling and faux bashing with his shield warmed his limbs. Blood pumping, he set his feet firmly and struck at the tree in earnest. Shield in front, hammer arcing from above and right. A dull crack sounded, mace breaking bark. Eyes trained on foes hands, step back, bash with shield. Wood struck wood. His already battered shield splintered further. _ Throw foe back with shield, or strike low, right to left.  _ More bark broke from his mace.  _ 'Can't believe the first few times I tried to push the tree.' _ He chuckled. Planting his feet firm, he reset his stance.  _ Strike high, left to right. _ Bark broke apart. _ Level shield flat, strike for throat, throw weight behind strike. _ His arm shuddered from the impact. _ Lodge shield under chin, charge forward and throw, or strike low, right to left. _ Bark splintered.  _ Reset stance, lock eyes to enemies weapon. _

Kasalis watched as he moved through the motions she taught him.  _ 'Such force behind his strikes.' _ She noted as shards of bark shattered.  _ 'No real accuracy though.' _ Her darker side noted.  _ 'Might as well practice myself.' _ She stretched out her legs, limbering up for the exercise. Flail in hand, she began offensive practice, motions well practiced. Fluid and powerful. Keeping her own efforts simple, she kept a close eye on Robert, calling out when he erred. Working herself well, she moved to a more defensive stance, movements small and steady. A steady stream of cracking bark and thumping wood sounded.

_ Step back, catch weapon on shield. Charge forward or push weapon aside. _ Robert tackled into the tree, noise resounding through the small clearing. Arms aching, he stretched his body some before sitting to rest. He sipped purified water from his wine-skin. He took a moment to study Kasalis' form. _ 'So controlled and powerful.' _ Robert watched her, awed at the display. Having momentarily forgotten her charge, Kasalis moved through advanced forms. Flail whirling faster than he could follow she landed blow after blow in rapid sequence on the tree before her. Every strike sent bark flying, force evident. He watched her pattern, determined to match her skill.  _ 'Right, left, low-right, low-left, high right, high left, right left.'  _ He sat, drinking in the display as she occasionally crushed forward with her shield and altered the pattern of her strikes. _ 'Im going to try that! _ ' Robert excitedly stood and began bashing the tree in a similar manner to Kasalis. Strikes clumsy and uncoordinated, he forced himself to slow down.  _ '"Always better to land one good strike than three glancing strikes" She said.' _ As evening passed by, they slowed their training. Stretching again, they returned to their camp.

Robert settled down, reciting the laws to himself. Kasalis rummaged within her pack, withdrawing cheese, bread, and meat.  _ 'And a slice of candied apple, lad deserves a treat after today. _ ' She divied out their portions. Robert beamed when he saw the treat, gleefully striking his knuckles together. "Thanks ma'am!" He called out. Kasalis restrained him for a moment to pray over their meal. Once glimmering gold shone, they ravenously devoured the simple meal. Kasalis smiled, content. Seeing her apprentice's appetite and appreciation warmed her heart. Taking her cheese slice in hand, she walked to the edge of their ramshackle camp.  _ 'Wards still intact. Good.'  _ She spent several minutes re-blessing the sigils engraved into the surrounding pines. _ 'Won't do anything to a large fallen, but anything smaller should be repelled. _ ' The sun setting through the drifting boughs bathed the camp in warm light. Kasalis straightened her bedroll and lay upon it. Robert followed, bedroll mere paces in front of hers. Once both found some comfort, she questioned him. "Alright Robert, recite the Laws for me please."

Eventually, sleep found the pair. Robert, exhausted from the days labors, slept deep. Kasalis dreamed:  _ Incandescent flashes of gold. Sparkling blue, grand and mysterious geometric shapes of glittering azure. Premonition. Suddenly, as if it had been there all along, Horrid streaks of red blazed through the tranquil scene. Anarchy. Desperation. Desolation. Shapes and colors once splendorous reduced to dull, tattered mockery. An unending tide of black reached out from the void, consuming all in its path… _

Jerking awake, she roughly palmed her eye _. 'That blasted dream again.' _ Abandoning the possibility of further sleep she stretched in the brisk morning. _ 'Its decided though. It is certainly a nightmare. I wouldn't feel  _ plagued _ by a dream.'  _ She scanned the dim forest _. 'Nothing untoward. Good.' _ Kasalis grabbed the food sack. _ 'No inclination for any specific direction this time. Suppose that's good.' _ She set aside rations for the morning meal, retrieving her flail and shield afterwards. ' _ Still. That dream always comes with _ some  _ inclination to move.' _ She rummaged through her rucksack, obtaining her vial of armor polish and whetstone from its depths.  _ 'Guess it's up to me this time.'  _ She grinned.  _ 'About time.'  _ Inspecting her equipment, she allowed her mind to wander. Her hands idly moved through the motions of maintenance, practiced and sure.  _ 'Maybe I'll find  _ redemption  _ soon and I can retire.' _ She smirked. ' _ Find a nice man, settle down, raise a family. Sounds nice.' _ She sighed. _ 'More likely I'll fight something I really shouldn't, and my apprentice will become me.' _ She looked at Robert's sleeping form. Resolve boiled. _ 'No. Not yet. Not until I'm old and gray. I'll not subject that boy to what I experienced.' _ She gripped her whetstone, roughly sharpening the edges of her shield.  _ 'Losing your mentor at seventeen… _ .' Emotion cascaded within. Sorrow. Fear. Excitement. Terror. Remorse.  _ 'So much fear...i would spare every child that.' _ She hefted her dented shield, wielded by four Kasalis before her.  _ 'Now… what lessons today? Recite the laws of course. History lessons in the evening when he might actually remember them.' _ She grinned at her small joke. _ 'Sword training? No, he can hardly wield a flail with the proper dexterity. A sword would be asking for trouble. Lop his own leg off. Perhaps I'll teach him punishment. That could be fun.'  _ She finished her maintenance, plotting out their day.

Robert blinked awake. Stretching his stiffened arms, he looked about for his mentor. Several paces from him she sat, polishing her shield. _ 'She's got that thinking face. Ought not to bug her. _ ' Attempting stealth he stood. Kasalis' head snapped up. She smiled. "Up? How did you sleep?"

He grabbed the food set aside, munching on bread. "Well, thanks ma'am." Stale bread crunching, he retrieved his mace. Kasalis handed over the polish. Robert sat next to her, looking over his mace.  _ 'No damage. Good. Just need to rub the dirt off. _ ' He took one of their rags and shined his mace. "Care for your weapon and it will care for you." He spoke aloud the advice so often repeated to him. Kasalis hummed in assent.

"Finish your breakfast, and let us check on your elk." Kasalis stood, stowing away her tools. Robert nodded, hurrying to finish his meal. "Stow up, we are going to break camp." Robert tilted his head. "I know we haven't been here long, but trust me, alright?" Robert shrugged and nodded his head. Kasalis rolled up the bed rolls. Robert dusted off his hands and packed away the weapons. Working together the camp was stowed away quickly. Hoisting their packs the duo set out.

Snow no longer fell. Wind breezed past colder and faster than yesterday. The sun peeked over the frozen peaks, bathing the land in light and driving back some cold. Robert followed behind his mentor. The calm morning and scent of pine cheered Robert. Full of joy, he began trying to whistle. Finding little luck, he nonetheless remained determined to enjoy the day.

Kasalis abruptly stopped. Robert bumped into her, eliciting no reaction. Confused he peeked around her right. The vision before him chilled his blood. In the clearing where the carcass hung stood…. Demons?  _ 'Only a demon would appear so evil. _ ' His rationale idly noted. Three smaller creatures, no taller than him, capered about a massive hulk. The small creatures danced on gangly limbs, corded with powerful muscle. They hunched, arms far too long for their bodies. Small horns crowned their skull, resting above malicious beady eyes. Scattered over their bodies lay scraps of cloth, iron and fur. Each clutched a ramshackle weapon, crude but obviously lethal. Their jaws jutted forth too far, appearing belligerent and fierce. Fangs jutted upwards, sharp and profuse. The large beast seemed almost as if one of the smaller ones simply grew to eight feet, though more heavily muscled and standing straight. The eyes of the largest glowed with a wicked light, and it clutched in it's meaty hand a long ax. It poked at the carcass, evidently preoccupied. "Ready your weapon Robert." Kasalis whispered, low and deadly. "Watch my back, engage only to prevent them from flanking me." She drew her flail, gaze locked to the large one. "Six paces back. Swing your weapon at the little ones. They are cowardly." She gripped her flail tightly. "They will not wish to fight." She slowly turned her head to Robert. "We move on the count of three."

Robert nodded, stomach churning and heart burning. "One." He clenched his mace. "Two." Robert grit his teeth and flexed his legs. "Three." Kasalis stormed into the clearing, Robert five paces behind. Kasalis shouted unintelligibly, rapidly revolving her flail. The demons lurched up. Panic shone on the small ones. The farthest left bolted, running swiftly deeper into the forest. The largest demon bellowed, a sound of rage and hatred. The other small ones seemed to surge with energy, inspired by the giant. It then surged forward, ax gripped in filthy hands reared back for a devastating strike.

Kasalis impacted the beast shield first, staggering it back. Its poorly timed strike glanced weakly off her shield. Kasalis followed through her momentum, striking low and right. The heavy flail crushed into the beasts knee, capsizing it. The right imp dashed about swinging its club high. Robert moved forward. Kasalis adjusted her footing, taking the blow on her heavy thigh armor. The giant hefted its ax and swung rapidly. Several clangs rang out as its blade contacted her shield. Robert rushed his shield forward. The imp stumbled in retreat. Kasalis huddled down, bracing against the impacts. The beast swung again. Kasalis surged upward. Abruptly a dizzying flash erupted from her shield. The demons screamed in pain, smoke rising from their eyes. Robert blinked rapidly, vision spotted. Through the frantic mess, he saw Kasalis strike the giant with her flail in a massive arc. The giant reeled from the force, jaw now limply hanging. Kasalis finished her attack with a herculean bash, shoving the fiend to the ground. Agony exploded in Robert's side. He snapped his gaze over. ' _ Oh. Got distracted I guess.' _ He dimly thought. One imp had surged behind him and embedded its ax in his side. Blood seeped from his wound. Time dilated. Robert drew back his shield arm. The imp pulled back. Robert stepped into his strike. The imp turned to run. Robert struck the imp in the neck. A loud crack split the air, and the imp toppled to the ground. The last imp turned, sprinting into the underbrush. Kasalis gripped the chain of her flail and threw it. Only, it didn't move. Instead a glittering hammer of silver shot forth into the base of the creature's neck. The creature stumbled to the ground, neck aflame with shimmering gold.

Robert swayed on his feet. His hand loosely grabbed at the ax handle. He tugged. Fire exploded through his core, knocking him to the ground. "Robert!" Kasalis yelled out, fear strangling her voice. Hands felt around his wound. Kasalis muttered something and his pain dulled. She began speaking to him, low and comforting. The ax moved, then dislodged. More pain exploded. Robert grit his teeth. Kasalis held her hands over his dripping wound, chanting in prayer. A searing etched over his exposed flesh. Robert screamed. Kasalis deftly removed his shirt and un-slung her rucksack. A sheet of cloth bandaging appeared in her hand. Swiftly she wrapped his closed wound, winding the fabric over him several times. Tying a firm knot, she pulled the bandage tight. Robert hissed. Abruptly she drew him into a fierce hug. Tears fell on his head. _ 'She's shaking. Is she hurt? _ ' His frayed mind wondered.

"Mo… Ma'am are you okay?" He quietly asked. He reached about her, returning the hug.

"Rob...Robert you…. I…. Don't scare me like that!" She admonished, voice full of relief. She tightened her hug. "I don't like you being hurt." She released the hug, gripping his shoulders. "Be more careful, alright? You can't risk hits like that until you have armor." She hugged him quickly, and stood. Turning she quickly wiped her reddened eyes. "Alright. Let us butcher your elk swiftly and be on the way." She hastily undid the knot suspending the carcass, allowing it to fall. Kasalis withdrew her sharp boot-knife, efficiently slicing portions of the great beast for storage. Robert drew his own knife. Kasalis shook her head. "No, I don't need help. Thank you. Go rest while I finish." She smiled gently.

Robert grimaced.  _ 'Don't like sitting around. _ ' He huffed, hitching his breath.  _ 'Ouch. Ow. Ow. Alright, maybe I will sit down.' _ He plopped himself against a tree, looking up to the sun. a metallic scent overwhelmed him. He jerked up, eliciting another lance of pain. _ 'Right. The bodies.' _ He hesitated. "Ma'am?" He quietly inquired. "Are we gonna bury them?"

Kasalis halted. She firmly shook her head, rapidly dissecting the carcass. "No. Those were fallen. Demons. They are evil. Pure malice." She hacked off another flank.

Robert remained silent, leaning back against the tree. "Like the Khazra?"

Kasalis hesitated. Nodding slightly she agreed. "Like the Khazra."

Robert leaned back.  _ 'I think.. I think I'll rest for just a moment.' _ He allowed his eyes to droop. The dull ache in his side subsided. Weariness descended. He allowed sleep to claim him.

Something struck his foot. Jerking awake, he frantically looked about. Kasalis stood over him, grinning. "Ma'am?" His confused look sent Kasalis into a fit of laughter.

Taking control of herself, she pointed towards the evening sun. "Time to move Robert." Blinking rapidly, he looked over at the now butchered carcass.  _ 'Did I really sleep that long? _ ' A ludicrous idea, but undoubtedly true. Robert staggered to his feet. Kasalis scanned the area. Apparently satisfied she started off. "Now Robert, I realize I've been a bit slow on training you." She looked back to his confused stare. Sighing, she continued. "You remember when I spoke of channeling miracles?" Suddenly full of vigor he nodded. "Right. Well, I think it is time to teach you at least one. I have a bad feeling you will be fighting more soon." She suppressed her worry. "You need to be ready."

Robert interrupted. "Is that what that flash was?" He immediately continued giving no time to answer. "Oh and that glowing hammer!?" He rambled further. "Oh I can't wait! Those looked..."

"Robert!" She interjected. Brushing back her hair she failed to suppress a grin. "I understand the eagerness, but you must temper it." Robert ducked his head. "Well, I suppose we should start with the most simple. Also possibly the most useful." He quickly perked back up, eyes alight with interest. "It is a manner of fighting that the order dubbed 'punishment', it is a fast and easy miracle to channel." She halted, looking back. "What do you think punishment is?" She quirked a brow.

Pursing his lips, Robert thought a moment. "Striking the head?" He finally replied.

Kasalis blinked. Bursting into laughter, she doubled over. "Oh…." She wheezed out. "I've…. I've never..." More laughter escaped. "I… Oh….Akarat…." She leaned against a nearby tree.

Robert flushed with shame, stepping back. "Sorry…." He muttered, shrinking in on himself.

Kasalis stifled her chuckles. "No… no… nothing is wrong." She steadied herself. "I've just never heard it… envisioned… that way." She smiled. "No. Punishment is a manner of fighting. It truly is simple. One must merely channel into the palms of your hands." She began walking again. "You remember how to channel, right?"

With a firm nod he reached into the well of warmth discovered the day after they met. Power surged up, unrestrained. Uncontrolled. Limitless. "Power channeled ma'am." He spoke through gritted teeth. _ Always burns to hold it. Ouch _ . "Now…. Just…. Channel it into my hands?" He asked.  _ Ow. Burning _ . Kasalis nodded.  _ 'Out you get then. _ ' Heat burned through his limbs. Searing. Burning. "It hurts ma'am!" He cried out.

"Steady yourself!" She gripped his shoulder, meeting his eyes. "Focus. Bring the power to your palms."

Robert pushed. Power burned into his forearms. His wrist lit aflame. Abruptly he stopped, allowing the power to fade. Gasping and panting he stumbled into Kasalis' sudden embrace. "That hurts…." He whined.

Kasalis halted. Splitting forth into laughter she hugged him tighter. "Yes. It really does." She rubbed his back. "It really does." Turning she kept a hand on his shoulder. "Well let's be off." For a time, they walked in amiable silence. Accompanied by the wind, sun, and cheery snow they journeyed further. "Don't worry. It took me some time to accomplish it." She turned her face to the sun. "And trust me, as soon as the strength rests in your palms it becomes much easier."

_ Burning. Searing along his arms. _ Robert exhaled, releasing the power. Warmth surged within. He pushed the energy along his arms.  _ Searing. Agony. Stop!  _ He doubled over, panting and gasping. The wound in his side spiked. Robert winced.

"Don't over do it Robert." Kasalis cautioned, voice concerned. _ 'Can't fault his dedication.. _ .' She turned her gaze back. "I see a road ahead. Let us make for it." Robert nodded.

Warmth surged within. He pushed to his arms. Fire exploded through him. Agony coursed down his arms. Fire reached his wrists. _ 'Just a bit further.. _ .' Lava boiled over his hand. Robert yelled, shaking his arms. Kasalis gripped his shoulder, worry etched over her face. "Don't worry ma'am." Robert mustered a grin. "I'm okay." Hesitantly she nodded, eyes returning to their surroundings. Robert nearly stumbled on the dirt road. He looked along it.  _ 'More a ditch than a road.’ _ He idly noted. Warmth surged within. Robert grit his teeth. Fire spread over his chest, emerging from the safety of his heart.

Kasalis watched the woods.  _ 'Where there is one, there are more.. _ .' She took a moment to check behind them.  _ 'Cannot be to careful around fallen.' _ Rubbing Robert's back lightly she walked along. Yelping again, Robert rubbed his arms. Kasalis spared him another glance. Face hard and determined he channeled power again.  _ 'Going to run himself ragged... _ ' Worry rose within.  _ 'Might actually damage himself if he strains to hard. _ ' She breathed deep. In. Out.  _ 'Don't mother him Nichole. He is your apprentice. A growing boy.' _ She bit her lip. _ 'Doesn't need… or want… a mother. Needs a mentor. _ '

She sighed over the distant sound of battle. _ 'Wait. WAIT!' _ She held out a hand, halting their progress. Robert began to speak up. "Hush!" The retort sounded far harsher than intended. ' _ Desperate times...'  _ She strained her ears. A rhythmic clanging. Distant screams. Bellows.  _ 'Akarat's teeth! This could be bad.' _ "Robert! I hear fighting! Hurry" She sprinted off. "Six paces behind, watch my flanks!" She called over her shoulder.  _ 'Can't spare a glance back… have to hurry!' _ She tore along the road. Around a small bend, she sighted the battle. She assessed the situation rapidly. _ 'Four wagons. Two fallen champions.'  _ She grimaced, charging forward.  _ 'Seven imps. Three standing fighters. One shaman. Non-combatants huddled in center. One bowman atop furthest wagon. Warriors holding in gaps between wagons. Demons are not flanking, must be confidant. Good.' _ Kasalis tucked her shield in. Warmth surged forth. Familiar fire spread. Mere steps from the right champion, she flooded her shield with power.  _ 'Light bless my shield, smite my foes.' _ Might surged forth. Her shield arm burned with barely contained primordial strength. Kasalis sprinted. The champion stumbled back, features distorted in confusion.  _ 'Protect. These. People.' _ Main arm braced against her shield, she tackled into a bash. A deafening crack shook the air. Jarred by the impact, she fell back. The champion stumbled to the earth, bleeding and screaming. The shaman trotted away. The left champion bellowed, yelling out in its foul tongue. The imps scattered.  _ 'With purpose. Damn.' _ Two sprinted towards the rightmost wood-line, wounded champion staggering up and after. "Watch my flanks!" She called to the standing warriors. Punishment seared her palms. Her flail swung its deadly arc, crushing the spine of an overeager imp. "Archer! Aim for the staff wielder!" She stepped back, tracking the demons movements.  _ 'Why would they run away from the fight….Robert!' _ Frantically she snapped her head around. The boy stumbled around the bend, clutching his wounded side.  _ 'No! No! No!' _ Panic overwhelmed her. Kasalis gripped her flail chain.  _ 'Justice grant me your reach!'  _ The warmth scorched. Power surged to her throwing arm. Jerking her shield aside, she threw forth the heat, manifesting in the air. The silver hammer of justice surged forth, crushing into the left separated imp, reducing the danger Robert faced. An imp struck her exposed leg with its crude ax, disrupting her balance. The blow sparked off her armor. _ 'Light protect you Robert...' _ Tears fell. She grit her teeth, turning and crushing the imp with her shield. Blood and phlegm splattered. The further human screamed, pulled down by two imps. _ 'I must help who I can. Be strong my Robert, I will come soon!' _

Ragged breath tore from the trotting youth, hitching on his wound.  _ 'Gotta… keep… up... _ ' Kasalis slammed an imp with her shield far away. Robert scanned around. An imp barreled toward him, followed by one of the colossal brutes. _ 'I… no! I can't fight that!'  _ Fear surged. "Kasalis!" He screamed. "Help!" The woman turned, immediately struck by an imp's mace in the small of her back. The imp before him charged, swinging its rusty sword high. _ Step back, raise shield, brace on back leg.  _ Robert's body moved without thought. The sword embedded in the shoddy wood.  _ Lean into foe, Step with rear leg, throw opponent. _ His limbs moved, well practiced. Powerl from adrenaline and his own stout frame surged forth. The imp staggered back, feet leaving the ground. It stumbled into the large one. Casually batting it aside the brute surged forward.  _ Step back, Raise shield, br…  _ The great maul it wielded struck the top of his shield.

Fragile wood splintered, cracked, and broke. Robert felt a snap in his upper arm. His arm splayed to the left, followed by half of his shield. Something tore in his shoulder. His left arm dangled limply. Cackling, the brute hefted its maul. Robert stumbled back. Weapon high, it arced the maul towards Robert.  _ Twist away, gain foot… _ The hammer struck his exposed left, striking on and above his recovering gash. Crimson spewed from Robert's mouth. Breath gurgled. Three sharp pains assailed his ribs. His stomach pinched, then erupted in agony. His wound split open. Blood poured to the thirsting earth. Someone screamed. _ 'Not me. Who? _ ' He tried to lift his head. 'Nothing.' A little girl, no more than six, sprinted across the road. _ 'Huh. No more than half my age.' _ He thought, smiling at the girl.  _ 'Wonder what her favorite color is.' _ An imp chased after her, lunging at the last moment and pinning her to the ground.  _ 'Right. We're fighting. _ ' Something stomped to the pair. Dagger raised high, the imp thrust at the girl. The brute kicked the imp over, interrupting its attack. Glaring, it stared down the lesser creature. Robert brought his arms under himself. The brute turned to the girl, eyes burning with malicious glee. It raised its massive weapon. The girl screamed. Robert pushed himself up before stumbling back to the ground. Nothing. No pain.  _ 'Huh. Am I dying?' _ Robert gripped his mace tight. _ 'Light hear my prayer.'  _ Warmth surged through him.  _ 'Bring me to that foe. _ ' Fire lanced through his legs, numbness receding. Searing heat erupted in his stomach, reigniting the pains dulled by adrenaline.  _ 'Let me strike down this fiend. _ ' His body caught aflame. ' _ Protect the innocent. _ ' AGONY. Every pore barked and howled in pain. His body melted into rays of light. Suddenly Robert burned among the clouds, pain forgotten. Far below, the world paused. The brute raised its weapon ready to strike. The girl screamed, clutching her head. The imp capered about the brutes heels. Robert focused his eyes on the brute, instinctively thrusting his weapon forward.

In a blazing surge of light, Robert crashed from the heavens, impacting the brute directly. Black bile spilled. Smoke billowed. The imp stopped. Bones shattered. The brute embedded into the snowbank, half of its body disintegrated by golden flame. Robert fell to his knees.  _ 'The pain!'  _ Blood oozed from his mouth, side and ears. Shooting agony pulsed throughout his broken body. The girl screamed. Robert stumbled, looking behind. The imp blitzed to the defenseless child, dagger gleaming. _ 'Engage foes with tenacity and fervor.'  _ Robert surged, trailing viscera. He collided with the imp, bringing the fiend to the ground. Immediately it clawed at his face.  _ 'Face the darkness blade in hand.' _ The imp drew blood. Robert closed his hands around its neck. The imp flailed. _ 'Crush those who oppose the cause.'  _ Blows struck his sides, head and legs. Sharp nails dug deep. _ Channel warmth to the palms _ . Searing light pushed to his upper arms. The imp dug into his wound. _ 'Pity the frail, Challenge the mighty. _ ' Robert screamed, tightening his grip. Fire reached his forearms. The imp slashed his face. Heat reached his hands. The imp clawed his eyes.  _ 'Destroy any who would harm the innocent.' _ Fire suffused his palms, transitioning into a pleasant warmth. The imps struggling increased, smoke rising from where his palms met its tainted flesh. Gurgles bubbled forth. Struggles faded. The imps arms fell to the earth.  _ 'Show no weakness. Never surrender. _ ' Robert slipped from the imp, eyes blurring. Darkness overwhelmed him.

Kasalis struck the final imp across its jaw. Bone and blood splattered. She cast her gaze about.  _ 'All handled.' _ Stumbling on her harmed leg she ran down the road. "Robert!" Her voice tore out. A champion lay embedded along the road. _ 'Half destroyed? What?' _ A young girl huddled over something. "Sweetheart? Have you seen…" Gently she gripped the child's shoulder, turning her about. "Robert!" Under the girl lay her apprentice.  _ 'no… _ .'. Terror took hold, tears falling. A mangled corpse with her apprentice's face stared at her. "Robert no!" She screamed, tears boiling forth. Desperately she pressed her hands over his worst wound. Heat surged from her core, pouring forth in a tide of healing energy. "Please don't die!" She pressed the dangling strand of his intestine back within his torso, arms burning with healing light. Robert drew a ragged breath. Kasalis gasped, crying fiercely. "There, Robert steady! Steady!" She grit her teeth against the agony pouring through her limbs.  _ 'Just… a… bit…. More... _ ' She broke off, panting. Wiping away tears, she lifted her apprentice.

"Miss?" The young girl squeaked.

"Huh? Oh, what do you need sweetheart?" Kasalis forced out.

"Myriam is a witch." She pointed to a pleasantly plump woman tending to a fallen warrior. "She knows all kinds of magic. She can heal too!"

"Myriam?" She looked at the woman. "Light bless you child, you have my thanks!" She sprinted towards the caravan, careful of her apprentice.

The witch offered a poultice to a wounded man before approaching Kasalis. "Quickly, inside my wagon. He has little time left." She spoke as Kasalis approached. Gratefully the crusader accepted. Opening her wagon door the witch entered her abode. Kasalis gingerly stepped up. Immediately she choked on the cloying incense, shuffling through the cramped quarters. "Here. Lie him down." She patted a remarkably clean table set before shelves of jars. Gently Kasalis obeyed. Myriam placed her palm over Robert's forehead. Muttering strange sounds she pulsed with vibrant emerald energy. Robert's breathing steadied. Abruptly his eyes fluttered open and he surged upward, palms alight.

Kasalis embraced him tightly. "Robert, it is alright. It is alright." She stroked his hair as his breathing calmed. "I'm here, it is alright." She whispered into his ear.

Robert glanced about, looking for the girl. "Ma'am… where… where is the little girl?"

Pressing a kiss to his brow, Kasalis spoke. "She is fine, she is alright."

Suddenly the strength holding him up evaporated, palms dulling. "Good..." Robert fell asleep the moment his head touched the table. Kasalis brushed his hair aside, fussing.

Myriam gently gripped her. "He will be fine, celdo." Slowly Myriam guided her out of the wagon. "I will take care of him until he awakes." Kasalis found herself outside. "Enjoy yourself in the meantime. In fact, it seems the party has already begun." She gestured to the thronging caravaneers, cheering and laughing.

Dully she walked to them. Drawing near cheers erupted anew, directed at her. "Thank you hero!" 

"We would have died without you!"

"Please accept some wine! It is the least I can offer!" 

The grateful civilians surrounded her. Feeling stifled, Kasalis stepped back. "Now! Give her some space! And a mug!" A handsome man, the archer, stepped forth. A mug frothing with ale manifested from the crowd, handed to the man. Bowing, he proffered the flagon.

Kasalis accepted the mug, smiling bashfully. "Well… I… You are welcome of course!" She gulped the liquid.  _ 'Ahhhhh… Mead!' _ Hunger ignited, she drank further, pleasant warmth burning down her throat.  _ 'How long has it been since I had mead? _ ' She gulped more of the blessed liquid. _ 'Bones of Akarat, too long!' _ Kasalis stumbled, taking another swig.

The man caught her elbow, steadying her. "Woah there!" He spoke, flashing her a grin. "Careful now, don't want to fall." He winked.

Kasalis blinked.  _ 'Is he… flirting with me? _ ' She studied his face. ' _ I'll test the waters I think _ .' She leaned back into his arm. "Well, I promise not to fall if you promise to hold me." She fluttered her eyelashes.  _ 'Is that too much? Light above I think it was _ .'

He wrapped his other arm around her. "Oh I accept that deal.." He nearly growled. "Gladly."

Kasalis grinned, warm from mead, attention, and victory. _ 'Well I suppose I could do worse. _ ' Leaning back into the man's arms she quaffed more of her drink.

Robert jerked awake. An unfamiliar sight greeted him. The inside of a wagon, tightly packed with oddities, books, and jars. A woman sat, reading a tome on an ornate bed. Robert cleared his throat. "Ma'am?"

Myriam closed her book, smiling at the boy. "I am sure you have many questions. Please. Let me answer some of them." She took a jar from nearby. "Your mentor is nearby. She has been enjoying my little group's company." Opening the lid, she withdrew a brown lump. "The girl you helped is alive and well, and the demons are slain thanks to you and Kasalis." She extended the object to him. "The worst casualty by far was you. No one died, thank the heavens." Robert took the brown lump. "And lastly, you may call me Myriam, celdo."

Watching Myriam eat a similar lump, Robert bit into his. A sweet, rich flavor burst in his mouth. "This is good." He nibbled more. "What is it?"

Myriam chuckled, eyes a-twinkle. "It is called 'chocolate' where it comes from. A delicacy it is. Rarely obtained."

"Thank you Myriam." Robert bowed his head before munching more chocolate. He looked about her strange dwelling. "Are you a witch?" He blurted out.

Myriam laughed long and full. "No celdo, I am one of the Vecin. Though," She winked. "I do dabble. In fact, I can tell fortunes." Robert's eyes lit up. "Would you like me to read your palm?"

"Yes please!" he called. Myriam chuckled and held out her hands.

"Give me your palm now." Robert moved forth his right arm. "Good, now sit still for a moment." Closing her eyes, Myriam took his palm. Slowly she traced the lines etched upon it. Her eyes scrunched. Her breathing drew ragged. Abruptly she dropped his hand. Anticipating the worry in Robert's eyes she waved her hand. "I am fine. I am fine." She rocked back. "I merely did not expect… that." She laughed humorlessly. Shaking her head she met his eyes. "You have a great destiny ahead of you Robert." She gripped his cheek. "You must stay true to yourself and your path. Never forget that you hold the potential within you to achieve great things." She released his cheek and stood. "Now. As much as I like your company, you should be off to find your mentor. She was worried sick about you." Robert nodded, turning. "But before you go. I have a gift. Given to me long ago, to be given to someone who would need it." She knelt, drawing forth a heavy box adorned with sigils. "This is a relic. Possessing tremendous holy power. No doubt you will find great use for it." She opened the box and withdrew a necklace from within. She reverently presented it to Robert. "Take great care of this, it is a braid of angel hair."

Robert's eyes widened. Gingerly he gripped the ephemeral blue weave. Tranquility and warmth flooded him. He looked back to Myriam, nodding thankfully. "Thank you Myriam."

She smiled. "Of course celdo." She stroked his hair. Suddenly she turned her back. "Now. Go find your poor mentor, and tell her you are sorry for maiming yourself."

"Oh… Oh right." He exited the wagon. "Thank you so much Myriam!" He called back, unable to hear her tears. Robert scanned about the camp. Twilight settled over the area. Laughter and the smell of drink pervaded the air. _ 'Good food too…. I'll need to ask to trade for some _ .' People gathered around a bonfire, some dancing and singing. Kasalis sat in the lap of a man smaller than her, face flushed and smile wide. She looked about the fire, noticing Robert. Staggering to her feet, she ran to him. Robert met her embrace half way, hugging her fiercely. Tears splattered against his head. Gently Kasalis shepherded him away from the revelry to their placed bedrolls.

She fell to her knees there, hugging her ward tightly. "Please don't ever scare me like that again." She whispered. "I could not handle it.' She released him and settled into her bedroll. "Now, you should get to sleep."

Robert groaned. "But I just woke up..." Kasalis hushed him.

"No arguments. You need more rest." She gazed intently at him. Robert sighed and settled down. Cold. Not warm enough. Cold. He wiggled in discomfort.

"Ma'am?" He whispered.

"What is it Robert?"

"Can you hold me?"

"...Of course."

Kasalis inched to him and embraced him from behind. Their breathing slowed. Robert felt exhaustion tear at him. As he drifted, he asked the question so long held in his mind. "Ma'am? Can I call you… Mom?"

The hug tightened. "...Of course." She choked out. Warm tears pattered to his scalp. "Of course...son."


	7. Chapter 7

Itherael replaced the voluminous scroll, securely stashing it within the shimmering gold container.  _ ‘An easy decision. He must not travel upon his next expedition, and he shall be well _ .’ Whispers, meandering trails of quiet conversation, echoed through the resplendent halls of the Library of Fate.  _ ‘If only instructing a soldier of valor were so easy _ …’ An angelic scribe flew by, halting and bowing deeply. A reverent muttering of ‘Archangel’ left the berobed angel. Her four shimmering wings, tendrils of flowing amethyst light, waved behind her. Itherael inclined his cowled head. Beneath the cowl, his features appeared murky and nondescript. Within her hand she held a similar scroll. It shimmered ivory and a tranquil blue. _ ‘An angel of hope’s fate then. Birth...to death...written and everchanging. _ ’ He stirred his six wings, ephemeral and white, and descended to the smooth marble floor. His voice carried to her, affectionate and fatherly. “Whom do you advise, honored scribe?”

The angel daintily touched to the floor, wings tucking bashfully behind her. “Greetings to you, venerable Librarian.” Warmth and humor filled her voice. “I read through the scroll of Iratiel, angel of hope.” Her wings drooped slightly. “A dark stirring has overtaken Hell, and many of our brethren’s fate has changed.” Itherael cocked his head. _ ‘I did not know of this _ …’ An imperceptible sigh escaped him.  _ ‘To much dalliance altering the lives of mortals, I suppose… _ ’ He gestured to her, palm open and encouraging. Nodding politely, she continued. “Iratiel’s fate is far shorter than it once was, and I intend to discover why.” She gently clasped her hands behind herself. “I believe the events are connected, and I may discover another path for him to take.”

Itherael’s wings warmed. A brief pulse of proud joy, blue as the sky, washed through his trailing wings. “So it shall be, honored scribe. We shall never waver.” He raised his hand and waved.  _ ‘Every demonic action may change our fates… _ ’ The angel departed, bowing deeply again. Itherael took flight, steering towards the open doors of the library.  _ ‘But fate always arrives in pairs. By the crystal arch, so long as it remains true, I shall not falter.’ _ He repeated his mantra, a common vow of the scribe. The great doors fell behind him, revealing the splendors of the High Heavens. Above, below, and all around him majestic walkways of polished marble, silver and gold stretched into the radiant clouds. Behind him, the great library of fate glimmered in the light of the Crystal Arch. Angels flew purposefully through the holy air. Itherael reaffirmed his convictions.  _ ‘I shall find a way to alter our ultimate fate...the heavens will not end in fire or surrender.’ _ The two outcomes of The Scroll of Fate, Talus’ar, the great record of the fate of the heavens and securely held to his side, depicted fire or slavery as the final moments of his people. _ ‘Fate always arrives in pairs. And every demonic action may bring forth new fate. I must remain vigilant to find the moment where victory is possible. _ ’ 

A glint caught his sight. Upon the walkway, a towering figure clad in blazing golden plate stood. The six wings of brilliant light upon his back rested low and contemplative.  _ ‘Imperius? What business has he here?’ _ The many segments and layers of the figures' impressive armor sat still. The oversized halo of zeal hovered above his head, an elegant fusion of brass and gold. It’s front splintered twice, forking high and low at each side. His armored helm, form fitting and defiant, turned. Itherael shuddered, flinching under the palpable zeal the twin vertical lines of his eye-slits emit. Gracefully, Itherael descended, landing several strides from his fellow arch-angel. Imperius turned, acknowledging Itherael with a curt nod. “I would rather be upon the battlefield, but I would seek your council.” Imperius’ voice echoed. Loud. Commanding. Uncompromising. “On a...private matter.” A sliver of fragility bled through his voice.

Itherael nodded, clasping his hands behind himself and dismissing Talus’ar. His wings steadied themselves as he adopted his advisors visage. “Of course, my friend.” Itherael walked close, standing within arms reach. “I shall always be prepared to advise. You know I shall not lay judgement upon you.” Anxiety churned his stomach.  _ ‘What could cause him such concern? _ ’

Imperious scrutinized him. His head nodded briefly and he turned to the walkways edge again. Far above, the Crystal Arch stretched into eternity. Four pillars of purest crystal, rising from the depths to the peaks of heaven and convening upon a single perfect point. “I...thank you Itherael.” Imperius’ voice softened. Doubt, worry, or fear plagued it. “Of course, I do not need such aid.” Imperius folded his arms, jutting his chin guard out. “But something still writhes within me.”

Itherael nodded, gazing into the beauty of the arch. “I know this well. The Archangel of Valor hardly  _ needs _ assistance.”

Imperius’ wings relaxed. “Most assuredly. But this matter does concern me…” He shifted his weight, leaning upon one powerful leg. “I would seek Maltheal’s aid…” His voice trailed off. Weakness blighted his indestructible voice.  _ ‘He truly is not handling Maltheal’s departure well...I don’t not think he truly can comprehend betrayal. _ ’ Imperius gazed down. ``...he is not here.” Itherael nodded.  _ ‘His greatest and only fear manifested...the wavering of his comrades’ Courage...loyalty...or strength… _ ’

“He shall return, I am certain of it.” Itheraels gut churned, despair and guilt gnawing him.  _ ‘Yes he shall return...as an enemy unless a great change occurs.’  _ His posture did not falter.

Imperius fell silent, visibly thinking. “I have aided another human, Itherael.” Itherael’s poise remained unscathed.  _ ‘Perfect news! One of the many paths towards a brighter future. Human action can change our fate as well… _ ’ He nodded, gesturing gently to continue. “I would...describe the event.” He straightened, gazing into the far distance. “A young human child, a boy, lay upon the earth and snow. He was broken, defeated, and dying.” His chin pulled into his left shoulder guard. “His life was sure to end, and he called upon the holy light. But he did not call upon heaven's power to save himself, like so many others...he called to the heavens to save another. To bring him the might to slay a demon.” Imperius dropped his hands, looking to the sky. Melancholy weighed visibly upon his indomitable frame. “His prayer, a prayer of war, reached me. And I… I answered it without hesitation.” He met Itherael’s gaze. “I gifted to him, a half devil aberration, the might of the Falling Sword. Without a second thought, I bestowed to him that sacred ability.” His voice broke. “I ask you Itherael...have I lost my path? Have I become...weak?”

Itherael surged internally, joy bursting through his body.  _ ‘A better path...empower and guide mankind to greatness… _ ’ He pulled his arms before himself, gently laying one upon Imperius’ shoulder guard. “No, Imperius.” He gazed out below. “You did what you knew to be right: you aided valor.” The mighty archangel cocked his head. “As you have said, you did not even hesitate to aid the boy. I believe that to be because you sensed the flame of valor within his actions, and responded in kind.” Imperius looked back to the arch. “You sometimes need this reminder, my old friend: humanity is half demon, yes. But they are also half angel. This boy holds a spark of the flame of valor, and you have always aided those who would stand against Hell.” He dropped his hand, resummoning Talus’ar. “You have done nothing wrong, nothing that is against your views. You have always been and remain, the flame of valor.” 

Imperius stood, silent and unmoving. Seconds passed. Minutes. His helmet briefly nodded. “I...you may be right Itherael. Thank you. I must contemplate this more. I did aid him without thought...perhaps you are right…” The archangel muttered to himself, vision scanning through his memory and mind. 

Itherael nodded, rising to the winds. “You shall find your answers within, Imperius. You always have.” He spirited away, leaving the contemplative archangel.  _ ‘Excellent news...every righteous human is one more grain upon our scale.’ _ His path winded through the walkways and marvelous sights of heaven, passing numerous members of the angelic host. ‘ _ The balance is not yet shifted. Humanity must be upon our side in the coming conflict. _ ’ He heels pressed upon the pathway of a verdant grove, tended by an angel of hope. Nodding a cursory greeting, he knelt before a pedestal. A small orb crowned the pillar, and he pressed his hands upon it. Itherael channeled the light of fate, bringing forth his power and peering through mortal hearts.  _ ‘There must be champions in Tristram three years hence. Fate winds too swiftly to know why, but I know we must tip the scales. _ ’ He selected a number of human individuals, those of power and courage, to impart his prophetic dreams upon again.

His mind stilled, conjuring the scene and urge to respond. 

_ Incandescent flashes of gold. Sparkling blue, grand and mysterious geometric shapes of glittering azure. Premonition. Suddenly, as if it had been there all along, Horrid streaks of red blazed through the tranquil scene. Anarchy. Desperation. Desolation. Shapes and colors once splendorous reduced to dull, tattered mockery. An unending tide of black reached out from the void, consuming all in its path… _

  
Itherael’s hands burned, the power channeled through them and raced to the mortals. The magic burrowed within their minds, ready to sprout upon their next slumber.  _ ‘Fate always arrives in pairs...I only need even the odds.’ _


	8. Chapter 8

Wood smoke drifted gently through the pleasantly cramped hut. Tagaan lifted his bowl, filled with venison stew, to his snout. _ 'Warm broth, family, and quiet on such a cold night. _ ' He swallowed the rich liquid, reveling in the hearty flavor.  _ 'Thank you ancestors. Truly, I am blessed. _ ' Daavansa tugged his mane sharply. He winced. _ 'Sisters. Bah _ .' She huffed, undoing his warrior braids for the fifth time.  _ 'I thought they were supposed to be  _ kind _ and  _ loving _ ,' _ Another sharp tug pulled his mouth away from the raised bowl.  _ 'By the ancestors is she trying to pluck me!?' _ He bleated deeply. Daavi chuckled. "Are you hurting your poor little brother Daavansa?"

The nag rumbled with laughter. "Never, mo..."

Tagaan bristled, interrupting Daavansa. "She couldn't hurt me if she tried!" He boasted. Another particularly sharp tug immediately belied his claim. "Fang of Norag! Mind your place woman!" He bellowed without thinking.

Daavi struck him sharply in the stomach. Tagaan coughed, spilling his stew. "You mind your tongue, son of mine." She glared fiercely. "Outside you may be able to speak like that, but in my hut you will respect your elders." Gripping his chin she forced his gaze to hers. "Even if they are women." Tagaan mewled, looking down. "Good. Now apologize for offending your sister."

Tagaan pushed his leg out, scraping along dirt. "I apologize for my disrespect." He offered somewhat honestly.

Daavansa brushed out his hair. "I forgive you." She gripped several strands of his hair, re-braiding it. "After all, I can't blame you too much." She tugged his hair gently. "Outside home the woman all hurry to bow before the chieftain's son." Tagaan huffed. "Hush you. It is a compliment."

Daavi stood, refilling her bowl. _ 'A good family I have. _ ' She stood near the hearth-fire. Her mate wrestled with their youngest, Haazixan. The lamb bayed fearsomely, charging his titanic father. Nostomo flapped his ears to and fro in humor. Quietly letting out his own war cray, he gently met his mighty offspring's charge. Locking horns with the jubilant lamb's stubs, he poked his belly, toppling Haazixan to the floor, howling with laughter. Daavi sipped her meal. ' _ A good family. _ ' She sat next to Tagaan. ' _ Now if I can just instill some manners in my boy, and convince my daughter to achieve more than life as a broodmare. She could be shaman if she but tried. _ ..' She dropped her ears, enjoying the serenity. _ 'Then…. Then I could return to the ancestors in peace.' _ She chuckled deeply in her throat. _ 'A mother can dream, I suppose. _ '

Daavansa tugged Tagaan's mane again. Abruptly she stood, admiring her work. "Good. Now you won't embarrass us on the hunt." She retrieved her bowl atop the hearth, sipping the warm broth. She kneeled, dignified, next to their mother.

Daavi bemusedly scrunched her eyes. "Still practicing to woo over Baan?" She questioned, voice full of mirth.

Daavansa flicked her ears. "Of course. It would not do for his future wife to embarrass him." She replied confidently. Tagaan snorted. She idly struck his shoulder. Tagaan barely shifted.

"You know that he has his eye on Verrnoksa's daughter, right?" Tagaan chewed upon a chunk of well stewed meat. "I don't mean to offend, but your prospects seem grim." He tensed his arm, awaiting an impact.

Daavansa merely lifted her snout. "He is already mine," she spoke, voice in every aspect the chieftain's daughter. "He simply does not know it yet." She sipped her broth, a perfect example of feminine poise.

Daavi chuckled.  _ 'She doesn't lack fire, that is for sure. _ ' Drowsiness rising, she excused herself.  _ 'She could be shaman, but if she does not wish to _ ...' Daavi lay on her soft pelt bedding.  _ 'Can't force her to be more than she wants to be.' _ Minding her horns, she shifted to her side, looking at her fine family. _ 'All one can do is support her.' _ She gently closed her eyes. _ 'And I will never stop supporting her. _ ' She breathed deeply, content. "Nostomo, love, come to bed."

The ram lifted his head, holding his lamb high above him. "I will soon Daavi." He pressed his forehead to Haazixan's. The lamb mewled to him, grabbing his horns. "Sorry balam, we will play more tomorrow." Haazixan whined despite the affectionate term. Nostomo placed him near his mother, who wrapped an arm tightly around him. He brushed his mate's spirit horn. "The hunters hold a meeting tonight." Daavi sighed from his comforting hand. "I will return soon, I swear."

"Fine." She nuzzled their wriggling spawn. "Put out the fire before you leave." Haazixan stilled, adrenaline crashing down. Nostomo traced the lamb's growing horns. Breathing slowed. Eyelids closed. Haazixan slept.

Softly pressing his forehead to Daavi's Nostomo backed from their sleeping furs. "Tagaan." His son lifted his head, still sitting before the fire. "Come. You are the chieftain's son. You should be here for this." He exited the tent, grabbing one of their hunting spears. Tagaan stood, following along. Grabbing his own spear, he followed his father's graceful stride.

"What is the purpose of this meeting father?" Tagaan quietly asked. The village lay quiet, kin sleeping soundly. _ 'Almost seems wrong to be out on such a tranquil night _ .'

"Humans." Nostomo spat out. Tagaan stumbled."More skirmishers prod our borders." Tagaan rushed forward. "We must make a decision tonight." Tagaan stuttered, unable to speak. "War…. Or surrender. We cannot simply ignore them any longer, hoping they ignore us." Fury coursed through his barely restrained voice.

Tagaan finally found his voice. "Then the answer is obvious!" He passionately whispered. "War! We hunt them like the beasts they are!" His voice rose with his hackles. "Organize trapper parties! Arm the war braves! We drive them..."

Nostomo struck him. Tagaan fell back, stunned. His father's eyes held rage…. And sorrow. "And when one of us dies my son?" Voice deadly quiet, he looked down. Relaxing strained muscle he continued. "I will not be cowed by some man-thing. I would cleave every last one of their misshapen heads from their shoulders myself." He clenched his fists, baring teeth. "But commanding kin to fight and risk eternity among the ancestors?" He slammed his hoof to the road. "That is abomination." He turned, walking further down the road.

Tagaan staggered to his hooves, chasing after his father. "But… father..." Nostomo slowed, halting in the road. "We cannot let them hunt us…" Tagaan whispered.

Nostomo tenderly grasped Tagaan's spirit horn, pulling their foreheads together. "I would never allow kin to be slain, Tagaan." The words brushed by Tagaan's ear. "But..." Exhaustion slumped Nostomo's mighty frame. "We cannot fight them." A mewl rose in his throat, mournful and long. "If even one more severance rests on my brow..." Tagaan pressed his forehead firmer to his father. "We must surrender Tagaan… no more kin slain…. No more..." Tagaan stroked his father's spirit horn. Despair choked his breath. "Come balam. I know my opinion, but a chief must hear his tribe." Nostomo broke their embrace, walking to the ancestors cave.

Tagaan choked, humor warring with sorrow. _ 'Even now, pestering me with advice _ …' He followed his father, content with the silence.

Becc stood guard, as always. He flicked his ears forward, greeting the pair. Nostomo halted. "You should attend this meeting Becc." Becc perked his ears questioningly. "It is a grave matter, and one all warriors should attend." Becc flicked his ears hesitantly. "Even the horn guard." Nostomo entered the sacred cavern. Tagaan left his spear behind, somewhat disgruntled.  _ 'When I am chieftain, I can walk these halls weapon in hand.' _ He reminded himself. Stopping before the clan-stone he drew a blade. Nostomo sliced his palm cleanly. Wiping blood at the base of the relic he proceeded into the right tunnel. Tagaan and Becc followed, offering their own blood. The three entered the Elder's Shrine, secluded behind intricate tapestries. A small totem stood proud in the center of the small dug-out. The Skull of Eabo rested atop, eye sockets burning with a comforting blue light. Within the room Rika, Toorian, Bezinla, Toov, Haacaan, Giinn, and Gah all stood loosely spaced. Immediately bawls of anger sounded out.

"What are these women doing here!?" Toov angrily demanded, gesturing to Rika and Bezinla. "Eject them at once Nostomo!"

The chieftain gripped Toov by his arms. Nostomo stared the war-band leader firmly in his eyes. Nostomo moved his right hoof behind himself. Crushing forward with startling momentum he slammed his horns into Toov's skull. A massive crack split the air. Toov crumpled to the ground, bleating and mewling, head frantically clutched in desperate hands. "Rika saved my son Toov." Nostomo stepped over him, standing next to the shaman and Eabo's skull. "Without this  _ woman _ , Haazixan would be stillborn." His palms audibly creaked. "Mind. Your. Tongue." Voice deadly quiet, he scanned the other war-leaders. "Do any others have a complaint?"

Toorian clapped his hoof. "I do chieftain." Nostomo glared icily. "It is normal and right for the shaman to attend such meetings. But..." He gestured to Bezinla. "Other women are prohibited from here." The elderly ram ducked his head. "I mean no disrespect, but she should not be here."

Nostomo stretched his neck, popping several vertebrae. "You are right… But I extended this invitation to her." Toov staggered to his feet, stumbling along the wall. Nostomo met his eyes, dizzied and shocked. "You should learn from your elders Toov. If you have grievances, speak them as he did." His voice softened. "You have great potential my kin, do not squander it with a closed mind and reckless aggression." Nostomo straightened his mighty frame. "I have invited Bezinla to represent a growing portion of our clan. The farmers." Several questioning mewls echoed through the cavern. Nostomo stamped his hoof. "Quiet. Interrupt me no more." His voice rose. Tagaan flinched back. 'He is getting angry. Truly angry.' "The farmers of our clan easily encompass four in ten clansmen. Bezinla is their informal leader." He gestured, inclining his head to her. "Her word carries great weight among the clan, even though none of you knew her name. Any decision we make here must include her." He walked slowly to Toov, offering his palm. "And I trust her judgment, as I trust every kinsmen gathered here." Toov hesitated. Ducking his head, he gripped Nostomo's palm in surrender. Nostomo clapped his shoulder, flicking his ears in gratitude.

"Your chieftain is wise." A skeletal whisper emanated from the skull. "You bring pride to our line Nostomo." The khazra fell back, dipping their heads and flapping ears. "Be at peace kin." Eabo's skull spoke. "Long have the shaman guided our clan with their wisdom, safeguarding our spirit and life. And only a woman can be shaman." The khazra slowly stood upright. "What does that mean Toov, son of Toorin?" Toov staggered back.

"I..." Toov breathed deeply. "That means that a woman has guided our clan."

"Indeed." The eye-sockets flared. "Our clan has benefited from the wisdom of women often." A ghastly chuckle swept the room. "I wondered how long it would be before a daughter of my clan stood before me without the garb of shaman." The blue flame burned bright. "Now, why do kin gather today?"

Nostomo lowered his head in deference. "Venerable Ancestor," he began. "The sun clan stands at a crossroads." Nostomo spread his arms. "We would seek your wisdom, and make our choice."

The skulls eyes pulsed lightly. "Very well. What trouble besets our people?"

Rika approached, head ducked. "Venerable ancestor, well do you know the plight of our people. The Blight of Souls that severed us." The skulls eyes flashed. "This is not what we gather for." She clutched her walking staff, leaning into it. "The humans threaten us." The skull remained silent. "Every day they grow more bold, skirmishers piercing deeper and deeper into our homelands." The other Khazra stamped their feet. Toorian bayed in agreement. "More kin fall, every day their aggression increases. We do not fear war, but we cannot open war with the humans in fear of losing eternity among the ancestors." The khazra mewled.

Giinn scraped his hoof across the ground. The council turned to the stocky ram. "I have lost five good hunters in the past month." His voice choked with sorrow. "Humans ambushed us during a hunt. My mate and daughter forbid me from seeking vengeance." He bared his teeth in rage. "My war-pack is desolated." He slammed his hoof. "Only seven others and myself remain!" His voice rose. "I could not even rescue Jaedean's spirit horn!" He slammed the wall, wrist cracking. "The man-filth ambushed us...descended like vultures..." He dipped his head. Gah gripped his shoulder gently. Giinn threw the hand off, striding forward. "His loss hangs upon my horns Ancestor!" He kneeled before the shrine. "Venerable ancestor...please…" He dropped to his hands. "What do we do?"

The skulls eyes burned brilliant turquoise. "Giinn. Tell me." The khazra rose his head, eye full of sorrow and guilt. "Did you ambush kin?" Giinn dropped his ears in befuddlement. He flicked his ears back in disagreement. "I did not think so. Did you slay kin, and revel in their spillt blood?" Again Giinn flicked his ears back. The flames flashed. "Then you  _ must _ stop blaming yourself for Jaedean's death. The humans slew him. Not you, my kin." Giinn bleated softly, lowering his head to the floor.

Nostomo lifted his kins-man. Gently he gripped Giinn's body-horn and clacked his own horns against the distraught war-pack leader. Rika loosely grabbed Giinn, pulling him back into position. Nostomo approached, head hung low. "Mighty ancestor, we do not push back against the humans. They smell our weakness. We cannot fight them, nor can we let them strike us down. Please." He knelt before the totem, weariness bleeding through. "What must we do?"

Eabo's skull burned gently. "Once, long ago, humans and khazra were not so different." The skull flared. "Perhaps we can reason with them. Inform the man-folk that we wish them no harm." Rika flicked her ears back, stamping her hoof lightly.

She approached, leaving Giinn to Toorian's care. "I...I have already tried to make peace." She dipped her head. "The humans...they hate us." Her elderly eyes fogged with tears. "They are violent. Unreasonable. I am sorry, venerable ancestor." She withdrew slowly.

The flame dimmed. "I see." A sorrowful mewl, ghastly and ethereal, echoed through the chamber. "I am sorry my kin. If peace is no longer an option..." The flames flickered. "There are only two choices. We flee, or we fight." The khazra mewled and bayed softly. Ears flapped in discontent. Hooves stamped the ground. Tagaan flicked his ears forward in assent. 'Good. War it is. We will show the malformed humans the meaning of fear.' Insensible chatter rose, every clans-man raising their voice. Nostomo reared back his head, bellowing fiercely.

He lowered his eyes. "The ancestor has spoken." He glared at each attendant, meeting their eyes. "I am chieftain." Ears pressed flat. "We flee. I will not risk even one more soul to the man-filth." The war-braves bayed, louder. "Silence!" Nostomo slammed his hoof. "You will take your families and flee. North, into the mountains."

Gah snorted, hackles rising. "I will not run from the weakling man-filth! My honor is worth more than that!" Nostomo glared deeply into the brawny youth's eyes. Gah mewled and looked away. The other war-leaders stamped their hooves, flicking their ears. Tagaan silently agreed with the sentiment.

Nostomo righted his back. "I do not care." The war-braves roared in outrage. Nostomo whipped his horns forward into Gah's. The youth staggered back, hitting the wall and falling. The war-braves quieted in shock. "Silence your mewling, cur." He walked to the center. Tagaan shrunk back, terrified of his father's icy gaze. Nostomo squared his shoulders. "I am chieftain. You will obey me." He met each other attendant's eyes. "Unless one of you wishes to challenge me for that right." He flexed his body, all seven feet of dense muscle straining. He swung his head back and forth, furious. His massive shoulders hunched, arms pulled in, spear held tight. He scuffed the stone with his hoof. Pebbles flew. Tagaan's heart dropped. _ 'Ancestors below...he's serious... _ ' The khazra mewled, hunching in submission. Tagaan shrunk, desperately searching his memory for any similar event. One powerful memory assailed him.

_ The wind whispered gaily through towering pine. Tagaan hunched in the green brush, deathly still. His father and grand-sire crouched nearby. He gripped his javelin tightly. The deer walked smoothly, undisturbed. Tagaan rose. He cocked his arm back. The wind stilled. Ears flicked. The deer looked over. Tagaan hurled the stake, accurate and strong. The deer screamed. Blood stained the air. Tagaan reared back, roaring in triumph. He stamped his feet and called in victory. Nostomo bleated. Tagaan boasted and yelled, flush with pride and vigor. Nostomo quietly asked if he was happy. Tagaan affirmed. Nostomo's eyes chilled. Fury surged. His father struck him soundly. Tagaan's blood spilled from his snout. Nostomo explained in a dangerously quiet voice that one should never take a life with joy. His grand-sire flicked his ears in assent. Songbirds sang. The wind rustled the trees. Nostomo tenderly rubbed a salve of healing where he struck him. _

Fear overtook Tagaan, and he mewled in terror. Nostomo swung his head toward him, eyes concerned. Sorrow flooded the elderly ram's features. Nostomo held his posture. He swung his hand broadly, dismissing the gathered kin. "Leave. My decision is final." Rika led the attendants away, shepherding them from the furious chieftain. Tagaan fled, following Rika. Nostomo stood alone in the room. The skull of Eabo pulsed gently. A sorrowful mewl tore from the great chieftain's throat. Falling to his knees, the weight of his age crushed down upon him.

The skull flickered. "You do the right thing, Nostomo, but moderate yourself." Nostomo fell back, leaning against the smooth stone wall. "Do not lose your clan's trust to save their lives." Nostomo mewled, body aching. "Take comfort in your family. Rest. You will need it, great chieftain." Nostomo righted himself. Ears flickering meekly. "And tend to your son. He is pain." Nostomo flicked his ears forward, a semblance of strength returning to his frame. Nostomo left the cave. Ahead his kins-men departed, entering their homes and resting.  _ 'No doubt despising me for my roughness... _ ' He breathed heavily. Tagaan stood atop a hillock nearby, looking over the kin-lands. He clasped his spear powerfully tight. Nostomo approached, stamping his hoof. Tagaan trembled, flicking his ears back in agitation. Nostomo slowly approached, hand outstretched. Tagaan jerked away. Nostomo bleat softly. Tagaan flicked his ears anxiously. Nostomo mewled softly, reaching out to his son. Tagaan allowed his father to touch his spirit horn, leaning slightly into his grip. Nostomo bayed thankfully, pressing his forehead to Tagaan's.

Tagaan mewled, shoving his forehead forcefully into his father's. "Lead them..." He whispered, voice hoarse. "Don't rule them, right?" He struck his father in the arm. "All a lie? Was it all a lie!?" He pushed back, stepping away. "Do you lie father? Do you lie!?"

Nostomo lowered his head. "No my son." He mewled sorrowfully. "I...I cannot allow them to risk eternity for their foolish pride." Tagaan wailed, gripping his father's spirit horn in trembling hands.

He bared his teeth into his father's shoulder. "Should it not be their choice?" Tagaan spat out.

Nostomo embraced his son tightly. "No… not this time..." He doubted his own word, regret piercing his heart. "They would choose damnation...I cannot let them." He looked into his son's eyes. "Their families and kin need them." Crickets sang in the night's darkness. Wind sighed through the hills above. Tagaan held his father. Nostomo nuzzled his child, stroking the rune that spelled Tagaan. "Come Balam." He pulled back from their embrace, gazing fondly at his son. "Let us visit the grove you like so much before we return." Tagaan choked up. He flicked his ears stiffly forward. Nostomo gripped his son's shoulder, walking slowly through the kin-lands. A comfortable quiet joined the evening chill. The pair moved past the farmlands, rain beginning to patter. Tagaan nudged into his father, walking closer. In companionable silence they entered the deeper forest. Tagaan brushed the rough bark of a tree as he walked by.

The babbling of a spring sounded ahead. The pair entered a small grove, darkened by night. A spring bubbled forth from the ground, creating a pond. Five wing spans in any direction from the ponds center the treeline receded into the clearing. Wildflowers bloomed. Willow swayed in the gentle breeze. Rain fell. Tagaan breathed contentedly. Nostomo embraced his son, Tagaan leaning into him. A twig snapped. Tagaan flicked his ears. _ 'A deer? _ ' He tilted his head. A whistle pierced the air. Nostomo threw Tagaan away and to the floor. An arrow sailed through the air before him. Tagaan bleated in shock.

Horrible human cries sounded out. _ 'Battle-cries?' _ From the wood-line, a massive human clad in black iron wielding a massive shield of white charged alongside a scrawny youngling human. A male clad in colorful red robes stepped carefully around them. A female human clad in steel and white, bearing a book and staff edged around the wood-line. Nostomo surged forward, arm cocked back. Eyes ablaze he hurled his spear with terrifying strength at the youngling. The youngling yelped, diving aside. The hunting spear impaled him in the shoulder, carrying him back and driving into the earth. A flash of purple flew forward, catching Nostomo upon his right arm. Fur singed, muscle and bone exposed to the air, and he bellowed in agony and rage. The massive human cried out, looking to the scrawny one before matching Nostomo's sound. Tagaan stumbled to his hooves. An arrow whistled out, embedding within Tagaan's chest. He cried in pain. Nostomo looked to him. The large human charged. Nostomo lowered his head. His legs bulged. The white robed human kneeled by the squirming youngling. Nostomo charged, hooves spraying dirt.

The two goliaths collided, Nostomo's mighty horns striking soundly against the black cross upon the man's shield. A brilliant flare of gold seared Tagaan's eyes. He bayed in agony. "Tagaan!" His father roared. He blinked, forcing his eyes open. His father stood, mangled arm locked behind the man's shield, the man's mace freshly embedded in his healthy arm. Smoke rose from where Nostomo touched the human. His horns...cracked and blackened. "The White one!" His father yelled. Tagaan flicked his ears wildly. He sighted on the white robed human. _ Favors their left...aim for the dodge. _ He bought his spear up, arm cocked back. The White robed human jerked her head over. Tagaan hurled his spear. The human dodged to their left, directly into the spears path. The javelin impaled her solidly below the throat, embedding through and into a tree behind her. The corpse swung. He looked back to his father. The red robed human moved his hands frantically about an orb of swirling white and purple. Nostomo stood above the massive human, wrestling the giant to the ground. Tagaan bellowed, charging the red robed human. The human yelled, ducking nimbly away from Tagaan's hasty charge. The orb dissipated. Tagaan hopped back, observing the battlefield. Nostomo bellowed in rage. Golden fire coursed over his hands, searing flesh from bone. He pushed forward. The giant human fell off guard. Nostomo surged forward, hands slamming against the humans helmet. He shoved forward, driving his knee into the iron plate. Planting his hooves, he angled his arms. Suddenly he crushed his hands together. The helmet crumpled like kindling. Blood and brain matter sprayed. The red robed human cried out. Eyes wide he stumbled back, fear staining his eyes. An arrow struck Tagaan in the back. More blood sprayed. Tagaan bared his teeth, charging the panicked human. He surged the final foot, throwing himself forward horns first. Bones crunched. Blood stained the air. Quickly he stood, turning to the struggling youngling. A human woman dressed in brown dashed from the wood-line, grabbing the boy and turning. Nostomo surged before them, head tucked down and right. He threw his horns forward. Crimson spewed from the human. She fell back, struck from her feet by the force. Nostomo grabbed her tunic, preventing her fall. His right arm hung limply. Tightening his left, he held the woman firmly. He reared back his head. The woman screamed. Cracked horns met her skull. Bone exploded. Viscera shot out. Nothing above her lower jaw remained. Nostomo dropped the twitching corpse.

Tagaan panted. Adrenaline faded. Coppery stench meekly reached him over the rain. Stumbling, he ran to his father. Nostomo whipped about, muscles tense. Seeing Tagaan, he deflated. Clutching his arm he limped forward. Tagaan gently grabbed his less hurt arm, trying to pull him away. Nostomo shook him off, walking resolutely forward. The human youngling screamed, clawing the ground. Nostomo stomped on his foot. Bone shattered. Heaving, Tagaan looked away. His father stepped twice more. The human screamed. Suddenly the sound ceased, another louder stomp filling the forest. Bile spilled from Tagaan's mouth. Trembling he looked back to his father. The humans head was missing. His father limped to him, hoof coated in fresh blood. Tagaan bayed in sorrow. Nostomo limped past him. "Come balam." He whispered. "We must see Rika."

Tagaan stepped in front of his father, eyes wild. "Why!? Why did you kill the youngling?" A Mewling cry splitting forth, he grabbed his father's horns, meeting his forehead. "Why? Why…." Sorrow choked his voice.

Nostomo leaned into his child. "Think Tagaan." Hoarsely he coughed. "What would you do if I were slain, far from kin? Left in a pool of my blood?" He nuzzled him. "Humans love their families deeply as well. That youngling would leave and grow stronger. He would gather more and slay kin in vengeance." Nostomo broke their embrace, leaning into Tagaan. They walked towards the kin-lands slowly. "I had to kill him…" Nostomo whispered. Tremors shook his voice. "I had to...ancestors forgive me."


	9. Chapter 9

Robert closed his eyes, sighing contently. The wagon below rocked gently. Hands clasped behind his head, he leisurely opened his eyes. Clouds breezed gently overhead. Birdsong accentuated the creaking of wheels. The donkeys pulling the wagon huffed at each other. Cool wind blew from the west. Robert stretched his back, not bothering to rise.  _ ‘Best way to travel.’ _ He smiled to the world, drowsiness bearing down.  _ ‘Bar none. _ ’ A bump in the road jostled him. Grin wide, he swayed with the cart. Robin trills lulled him to sleep.

“Robert!” Kasalis called from aside. “Get down from there.” He cracked an eye, looking at his smiling mentor. “Now, we took good coin to escort these folk.” She walked alongside the carriage, hands clasped behind her head. “Can’t well do that atop the wagon, I think.” Robert sighed over-dramatically. He righted himself in the wagon, stretching his powerful frame. His side hitched minutely. ‘ _ Never did properly heal.’ _ Kasalis turned away from the wagon, glancing out towards the lush forest.  _ ‘Feels like a lifetime ago...not a mere five years. _ ’

Robert stood and hopped from the wagon, stumbling slightly as he landed. His hefty chain tunic jingled. Loosely hung mace clapping against his side, he jogged up to Kasalis. She casually bumped him with her hip. Chuckling gently she spoke “Forgetting something?” Robert groaned. He trotted back to the wagon, retrieving his fine tower shield. He smiled wide, taking in its polished sheen. A wonderful replica of Kasalis’, the holy symbol of the crusaders dominated its surface. ‘ _ Can’t blame her for investing in a quality shield and armor for me after that day _ ...’ Slinging it over his shoulder he jogged back to his adoptive mother. She strode leisurely along the caravan, full plate easily resting on her strong frame. He caught up, slowing beside her.  _ ‘She’s grown her hair out some, and her eyes always twinkle these days.’ _ Mirroring her posture, he walked alongside her in the early spring morning. He looked out along the roadside. Wildflowers burst forth color, and the forest canopy hung heavy with verdant growth. A small rodent scurried along a wooden trunk, chattering.

Wagon wheels creaked under the strain of their burden, heavy silks and exotic spices from the great desert lands of Caldeum. The caravaneer, a slight man with beady eyes and twitchy fingers, called out for the wagons to halt. Robert folded his arms, leaning against the halted wagon. “Any idea what the bloke’s whinging about this time?” He looked back to Kasalis.

Tutting, Kasalis shook her head. “Not in the slightest.” She frowned lightly at him. “And it would do you well to respect your elders.” She winked, grinning wide. “And clients.” Robert huffed, turning his head. Kasalis sighed, gazing over him. “Don’t sulk Robby, it is unbecoming of a crusader.” She dropped herself against the wagon next to him, bouncing slightly off it. She grinned, leaning against him. “I would hate to have to get a new apprentice...” Robert snorted, nudging her. “I would. Training some new young-blood from the ground up...” Robert sighed, enfolding her gently in a hug. “It would be a pain, I assure you. I mean, do you remember yourself? Light above, I nearly gave up on you time after time.” Robert kissed her head, tightening his hug.

“I do.” He smirked to himself. “Still, you could have done worse.”

Kasalis nodded, wrapping her arms about him. “You’re absolutely right.” She spoke softly to him. “I could have done so much worse my Robert.” She leaned her cheek against his shoulder. “I wouldn’t trade you for anyone, or anything.”

Robert choked up quietly. He stroked his mother’s hair slowly. Gently.  _ ‘My mother’s.. _ .’ He smiled wide.  _ ‘That is right. My mother’s hair. _ ’ He tightened his hug again. “Nor would I mom.” Birds sang distantly. “I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.” A loud cough interrupted them.

Robert casually placed his chin atop Kasalis’ head, looking to the Caravaneer. “I hate to  _ interrupt _ ...” The man grimaced, nearly spitting the word. “But Kaylee has just reported back. A small herd of fallen are approaching from the west.” Snarling he stomped off. “I would  _ appreciate _ it if you actually did your light forsaken _ job _ .” Kasalis pushed Robert away, swatting his shoulder playfully.

Kasalis chuckled, checking over her equipment. “You heard the man.” She grinned savagely. “Let us do our job.” Golden light gently flooded down her arms, settling into her palms and armaments. Robert nodded, pushing the heat of punishment through his own powerful limbs. He hissed against the explosive pain. His right bicep spasmed. Power flowed. Robert whimpered, gasping against the agony. The power settled comfortably into his palms, heat dissipating. Robert breathed steadily and flexed his palms, now coursing with righteous power. Gripping his mace in his primary arm, he braced his tower shield. He pulled the straps tight, securing it in place. Rising to his full height, easily a full head above Kasalis’ five and a half feet, he strode around the wagon. Kasalis walked along a moment later, barely finishing checking her full plate’s rigging. Robert stood to the side, standing straight and firm. Kasalis stopped next to him, looking over the four men and women shifting uneasily beside the wagon. ‘ _ Not a well disciplined lot, that’s for damn sure.’ _ She nodded firmly, turning about on her heel. “Alright. Fallen are approaching from the west. You.” She pointed to Kaylee, armed with bow and short-sword. “Climb atop the wagon and watch for any bearing a staff. Shaman such as those are your first priority. “ Looking over the remaining men, armed simply with spear and shield, she nodded. “You three will support each other and watch our backs. Use any and all methods to protect each other and us.” She paused allowing the men to affirm and ready themselves. “Me and my apprentice will vanguard, taking the brunt of the assault.” A horn sounded dimly, blood-curdling and low. “That would be the foe.” Kasalis rolled her shoulders, drawing up her shield and heavy flail. _ ‘Sounding a horn? Either their numbers are great, or they are simply overconfident. _ ’ She drew her brows together, breathing deeply. “Hold your ground. Do not assault. Prevent flanking on your allies.” The bushes before them rustled, wind blowing gently. “They will strike where they see vulnerability, give them none!” Quiet overtook the road. “Hold your ground! The Light protects us!”

Robert snarled, bringing forth his fury. He slammed his shield into the ground, choking his large mace up. Tossing a stray lock of dusty brown hair from before his eyes, he fumed.  _ ‘Light forsaken fiends. They would attack innocents! Children are in this wagon! Every last one of them will die...the Light demands it!’ _ Listening to his mother’s rallying speech steeled his heart.  _ ‘Not one person dies this day. Not one. _ ’ The bushes before them rustled gently. Robert stepped forward, left foot leading. Bracing his right arm back he watched the tree line intently. Faint guttural howls and barks rose. The bushes trembled and burst outward. A small herd of deer, other small mammals running beneath them, broke from the tree line. The panicked animals splintered, sprinting and leaping around and beyond the standing caravan.

Mongrel creatures broke from the treeline, six strong. Fallen hounds, horrible and brutish beasts. Puggish jaws, wide short and thick, let loose demonic barks. Sharp and numerous teeth gnashed. Stunted, staunch legs flew. Wickedly clawed paws tore dirt from the ground. Tremendous hunched shoulders surged, tense with thick muscle. Blood leaked underneath their sharp chain ‘collars’. Madness danced in their savage eyes. Blood-lust. Hate. Four of the hounds immediately veered off, surrounding the wagoneers. Robert bared his teeth. Kasalis’ voice rung within his mind.  _ ‘Fallen are hateful and dangerous foes, but weak of mind and easily tricked. Taunts and goading will break their ‘formations’ almost every time.’ _ Meeting the gaze of one of the barking hounds, he turned from the rightmost. The ignored beast lunged, eager and hungry. Robert’s mace arced skyward from beneath, crushing the fiend’s jaw. Radiant light burned along his arm. A twinge pulled his tricep. The hound yelped, knocked back and prone. It’s legs feebly kicked the air. Fallen imps surged from the treeline. Robert counted at-least twelve before chaos descended.

Screams tore the air. Horrible and fearful bellows echoed. Robert stepped forward, shield guarding his body. Dimly he heard a man fall to the ground, hounds savaging his arms. Kasalis yelled out, flinging a smiting gavel of glimmering silver. The gavel soared true, knocking back and searing a hound. The right guardsmen stood, stabbing defensively. A guardsmen stabbed a hound. Pained whimpers fell from its bleeding throat. Robert, arm held high, bashed into a hound. Mace met skull, and the hound fell limp. An imp lunged forward, stabbing painfully into his thigh. Robert spun, mace held out. Great momentum threw the imp skyward, crashing back into the bushes. Before him another imp stepped back, eyes wide. Robert pulled his arm, sinew aching, to the side. Another imp splattered, another bloodstain upon the ground. Robert stepped back, desperately overlooking the formation. The final hounds lay dead, a knife piercing one heart and the searing rune of smiting branded into the other. A guardsman bandaged the wounded man while another stood vigil. Kasalis thrust her shield firmly, a brilliant light flashing from an imp’s impact. Another painful stab tightened his breath. Robert lashed forward, leg striking the imp down. Its head struck a rock, denting bone. The imp righted itself, eyes unfocused and wild. Steel arced down. Devilish blood spilled. Five imps nervously rallied behind two towering champions. In the treeline two gaunt figures, scrawny champions rustically bedecked in feather and ornament, clutched rot-twisted staves topped in bone and effigy.  _ ‘Shaman... _ ’ Robert snarled, arm twitching. A piercing ache worked through his arm, stifling breath and harmonizing along his ravaged side. Gasping deeply, Robert charged.  _ ‘I must end this now! I cannot fight long.. _ .’ Kasalis threw forth her hand, bellowing. “Robert no!”

Boots flew. Robert roared, charging the smaller champion. Kasalis spat an expletive. “Archer! Kill that shaman now!” Kaylee affirmed shakily. Light-blessed heat filled Kasalis, flowing arm-ward. Bellowing, Kasalis manifested and threw the golden Hammer of Justice. Dull ache spiraled from her fatigued arm. An imp lunged, jabbing during her throw. Her shield caught the creatures thrust, deflecting it aside. The sacred armament struck true, crushing the left shaman’s ribs. A breath later, a swift arrow skewered its throat. The shaman gurgled, collapsing. An imp ducked behind her charging son, driving its twisted spear under his armored skirt. Crimson spurted. Robert flinched, pivoting. Shield point hit chest, and the imp deflated. A deafening roar tore out. A massive ax flashed. Kasalis yelled. Robert drug his right heel sharply, contorting his body.  _ ‘Just as I taught him. _ ..’ Kasalis remarked against her panic. His shield sparked the axes edge, deflecting the deadly arc. The blade veered from his chest to his arm. Chain shattered. Muscle tore. Blood sprayed. His right arm now unprotected and bleeding, he cried out. Another imp impaled his right leg. The large champion skulked behind him, great-maul readied. Kasalis sprinted forth. “Behind you!” She cried desperately. Robert struck out, battering the smaller champion. His shield swung wide, blindly warding. An arrow shot down an imp. The squirming body fell, stumbling the young crusader. The prowling champion sprung, swinging powerfully from the hip. The maul struck true low to his back, battering him to the floor. A painful crack attested his broken bones. Kasalis impacted an imp, shield leading. She gripped her flail. Pulling her arm even to her shoulders, she channeled searing light to her arms. Her arm twitched, pain echoing sharply through her arms.. A tight hiss escaped her. Whipping her arm forth, she hurled the Hammer of Justice. Brilliant gold sparked against the wounded champions red flesh. It staggered back, howling. She spared a glance, assessing the field. Robert squirmed upon the floor. The guardsmen charged behind her, stabbing and prodding the devilish imps.

Robert twisted, shield covering his body. His back fell numb. Sharp incessant whining pierced his ears. He brought his weapon arm beneath him, drawing short. The limb twitched, unwilling to maneuver. A deep inhale drew to his hurting lungs. His right shoulder stiffened. Bones locked. Dimly, combat sounded above him. A hand pulled his shield arm, dragging him up. Kasalis swam in his vision. Stinging crimson marred sight. His mother bloomed into golden light. Face contorted in agony, she pressed a palm to his head. Warmth filled him. Vision sharpened. Adrenaline faded. Warmth burned to agony. Bone knit together, unnerving and painful. Shoulder, ribs, head, and arm screamed for attention. Robert rubbed his face, wiping away blood. His finger traced up, following the trail to his scalp. Tacky fluid clumped his hair.  _ ‘Huh. Must have hit my head.. _ .’ Turning to face his mother, he grinned sheepishly. She glared, lip trembling. “I take it we won?” He tentatively questioned.

Kasalis folded her arms, gaze boring ground-ward. “Yes.” She clipped. “They retreated.” She turned away, facing the caravan.

Robert grinned. “Well! Everything came out fine then!” He hooked his mace along his side. wince shuddered through him.  _ ‘Arm’s hurting badly now _ ...’ Tilting his head around to face her, he rolled the pained arm. Kasalis stepped forward, digging her heel. She pivoted from the hip, striking him open palmed across the jaw. Nerves flared. Robert cried out, falling back. His back met earth and air escaped his lungs. He clutched his chin, eyes wide and mouth agape. Kasalis stood above him, fists clenched. Her eyes shimmered tearfully. Shoulders hunched, she folded her arms again. “Mother?...” He whispered.

Kasalis tucked her shoulder length hair back. Biting her lip she looked away. “Don’t...” Ragged breath wheezed. She covered her eyes. “I...just…” Turning away from him she choked out. “You could have died Robert.” Squaring her shoulders, she walked closer. “What you just did was...was stupid!” Fingers ran through her hair. “What were you thinking!? Charging a herd of fallen without backup? With this?” She seized his right arm, dragging him up. Shutting his mouth Robert followed her up. The pulled arm spasmed.

Robert shook his head, finding his voice. “We both know I can fight with it...” Kasalis tightened her grip. Piercing agony surfaced. Robert grit his teeth, hissing sharply. “It hurts, yes! But mother...”

Kasalis jabbed his wounded left. “And that!?” Robert gasped, hunching over the weak side. “You can fight with that?” Robert huffed and wheezed, stuttering a response.

“I….ahhh...” Gingerly palming his side, he righted himself. “I...can.” Kasalis twisted to face him, visage chilling. “I can, mother. It hurts, but I can.” Drawing a shaky breath, she met his eyes. “And what is a little pain to the life of another?”

Kasalis spoke quietly. “What is the life of another to yours?” Robert turned, rubbing his neck. “If you seize up in the midst of battle...” He approached her. “If you lose your concentration...” Robert gently embraced her. “If you...die? Robert….I...” Weary arms returned his hug. “I couldn’t handle that, Robby. My heart couldn’t take it.”

Robert exhaled. Inhaled. “Mother...It is our duty to fight for, and perhaps die, for others.” He whispered.

Kasalis stifled a sob. “It is easy to say that about ourselves ...but how would you feel if I talked that way?”

Robert opened his mouth, willing words to explain himself. “I…” Allowing his heart to speak, he stroked her hair. “I would be heartbroken. I don’t want you to die.”

His adoptive mother nodded. “I know...I know that it is our risk...but please...please don’t take risks like that. Be smart ...by the merciful light above please be careful.”

Robert tightened their hug. “I...alright. I will...try ...to be more careful.”

Kasalis placed her hands along his head, drawing his forehead to hers. “That’s all I ask...that is all I ask.” She lifted herself, kissing his brow. Drawing back she steadied her breathing. “Now, I believe that some of our allies are hurt. Let us tend their wounds.”

Robert blinked, nodding with vigor. “Right...right. Don’t overdo it.” He repeated her lessons. “Access situation, then check head for injury. Clean wounds, bind wounds, set bones, and then channel The Light to heal.” Kasalis nodded, smiling. Pointing to a hurt guard, he continued. “I’ll start with him. I have twine and thread. My medical flask is empty, do you have any left?”

Kasalis affirmed. “Aye. Hand yours over.” She expertly poured half of her concentrated alcohol into his flask. “There. Get them back on their feet.” Retrieving his flask he jogged to the wounded man, wincing every left step. Accessing the situation he sighed in relief. _ ‘Not near bad as it could have been. _ ’ He knelt beside the guard washing his maimed leg. Another stood beside him, bandaging wounds on the mans torso. _ ‘Eyes look fine, no blood on head. Good _ .’ Robert pulled out his flask and gently questioned the man.

“How bad do you hurt, friend?” The man groaned, jerking his head side to side. “Badly? Don’t worry.” Robert smiled. “I will help you. May I move your leg?” The man bit his lip, stifling a whimper. A shaky nod broke his concentration, and he cried out in pain. “Thank you friend.” Robert tenderly gripped his shoulder. Gripping the man under the knee and at the ankle, he slowly levered the wounded appendage straight.  _ ‘One deep bite, one shallow bite, and three grazing bites. Man has stones. _ ’ Robert brought forth his flask, uncorking it. He met the man’s eyes. “This will hurt, but your wound will be clean.”

The man grinned, teeth pressing hard together. “I’ve...I’ve had wounds before.” He wheezed.

Robert chuckled along. “Just making sure, friend.” The flask hovered over the wound. Robert gripped the man's hand. Sterile liquid poured. The man cried out, hand crushing Robert’s. Bones creaked under the sudden pressure. Robert winced, holding the flask steady. He poured a generous portion over the wound. Breathing deeply, the man steadied himself. He nodded in thanks. Robert retrieved his gauze, hands meticulously wrapping the wounded leg. A figure knelt beside him. Slim, calloused hands joined his. The two finished binding the man’s wound. Robert spared his unexpected companion a glance. Kaylee, their scout and archer, worked alongside him. He grinned. “Thank you Kaylee. Your aid is appreciated.” She smiled, inching closer to him.

Kasalis channeled light through her palms, mending the wounds of the last harmed guardsman. Exhaustion roared. She leaned back. Exhaling, she gazed about the relieved battleground. People sat, lay, and meandered about. Quiet chatter joined returning birdsong. The surly caravaneer paced, hands fidgeting and eyes panicked. Robert knelt near Kaylee, binding wounds. Kaylee hovered near him, brushing his hands and arms frequently. ‘ _ Light in Heaven...that is adorable. _ ’ Robert continued his task, flush rising in his tanned cheeks.  _ ‘But. _ ..’ Kaylee laid her hand upon his shoulder, squeezing gently. Their eyes bore into each other.  _ ‘It can’t be. Need to step in... _ ’ Kasalis stood, stretching her sturdy frame.  _ ‘Little trouble maker...she should know he has a duty... _ ’ The older woman stopped herself, tilting her head, Robert took Kaylee’s hand, channeling a small surge of healing light through their mixed palms. Robert grinned, pain shining through sparkling blue eyes. The man below them sighed, tension easing.  _ ‘They’re young...I shouldn’t interrupt them. _ ..’ Kaylee brushed her hair back, grinning bashfully. Their hands remained intertwined.  _ ‘But...he cannot lay such a burdensome risk on her _ ...’ Kasalis whistled. Robert perked his head up. Kasalis rolled her head back, gesturing away. Quirking a brow her apprentice stood, patting Kaylee’s shoulder. Bright grins passed between them. Kasalis turned about, meandering into the woodline a short distance. She riveted her gaze deeper wood-bound. Robert’s heavy footfalls approached, accompanied by his slightly annoyed voice. “Aye mother? What do you need?”

Kasalis sighed, squaring her shoulders and looking to him. She breathed deep, meeting his eyes. Robert tensed, eyes darting. “You cannot lie with that woman.” Kasalis spoke firm and soft. A still moment passed. Robert loosened his jaw. Sputtered words garbled in his throat. A bird trilled above. Gentle wind blew by. Blood flooded the young crusader’s face, and he stumbled back. His left hand rested high upon his waist, and he rubbed his throat. He finally stammered out a sound reminiscent of speech while turning his head away. Kasalis shook her head and stepped forward. “No Robert… don’t try and deny it. I know you at least thought of it.” He folded his arms, hunching slightly. “Such thoughts...are...normal. Normal, and not to be ashamed of. But you cannot indulge in them.”

Robert found his voice and sounded his rising indignation. “Mother! What under heaven's gaze are you talking about?” The young man clenched his jaw. “She’s… we’re just being friendly.”

Kasalis sighed. Her hands gripped her hips. “Now Robert… do we really need to have this conversation?” She cocked her hip, quirking her brow high. Robert rubbed his neck, firmly avoiding her eyes. “You're both young… blood thundering…” Kasalis sighed, rubbing her arms and walking forth. “Calming down… fair of features…” Her hand lighted upon his shoulder. “It’s normal Robby. It really is.”

Robert stepped back, voice spitting with venom. “But not for me right!?” Robert snarled, tensing tight. “I can’t…”

Kasalis tightened her grip. “No, you're not listening!” Robert scoffed. “It is normal, you just can’t!”

“Why!?” Robert gripped his hair, knocking her hand away. “I know that you have lain with men before on our journey!” Kasalis exhaled, jaw slackening. “Don’t think I’m stupid, mother.” He glanced away, lowering his voice. “All those nights you ‘stayed out late’, were ‘patrolling’ and came back reeking of sweat and beer?” He spat on the ground. “Not hard to put together…”

Kasalis snapped her jaw shut. She breathed deep. Her eyes sharpened. “Robert. Listen.” Her voice cut out, sharp as a knife. The young man opened his mouth, turning back. “No!” She barked, pointing firmly. “Quiet. Listen.” A deep breath filled her lungs. She exhaled, stilling herself. “Think for just a moment. If someone has a baby, who gives birth to the child?” Robert’s eyes softened. His mouth opened. “So when I have sex, who holds the risk?” Robert looked to the ground. “Who must hold the child and raise it?”

Robert sighed, hugging himself tightly. “...you would, mother.”

Kasalis sighed. “Yes. I hold all the risk here. But if you laid with that woman…” Robert nodded.

“She would hold all the risk.”

His mother nodded. “Aye. It isn’t fair… it isn’t nice ... but you cannot lie with her.” She bit her cheek. “Unless… you were willing to break your oath and settle down with her. Or she took the oath.” Robert sat, falling heavily to the ground. Kasalis walked to him, rubbing his shoulder gently. His shoulder rolled, dislodging it. “Robert…” her voice quieted. The young man shook his head. 

“No. No… you told me to never let injustice stand.” He stood. “That is not justice! Why can you do it, but not I!?” Kasalis stepped back. Robert rose, standing and pointing. “Why!? What if she said she was willing? What if she understood?”

Kasalis wrapped her arms around herself. “Robert, no. Even if she…” Robert stepped forward, swinging his arms wide.

“Why then? Why you, and not me?” The young man softened his tone, almost pleading. “I… I desire her…”

Her arms lurched forward, hugging Robert. “I know you do, sweetling.” She gripped tighter. “I know.” Pressing a kiss to his brow, she continued her statement. “Even if she consented, even if she knew the risks…” Robert stilled. “If such a dalliance resulted in a child...if...you fathered someone and were not there to raise them?” Robert’s chin dug into her shoulder, pressing against her head. “That is not something you could do, right?” His head jerked side to side. “No...so truly Robert. You cannot lie with her. If not for you and yourself, for the youngling you might sire.” Her son held her. His arms relaxed. A slow nod moved her shoulder down.

Robert righted his sturdy frame. “You’re right, mother.” He chuckled grimly. “You’re always right, aren’t you?” Kasalis leaned back, brows furrowing. Her mouth parted. “No, no need to speak mother. I understand.” He folded his arms, turning away. “I’ll not lie with her. No need to fret and cluck.” 

Kasalis sighed, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes. “Robert. Please stop.” The young crusader fell silent. Kasalis opened her eyes. “Don’t sulk. Truly. Don’t.” Robert shook his head. “I can’t take childishness right now.” A scowl marred Roberts visage. “Stop. We have injured, and a duty.” Frustration boiled within Kasalis. She grit her teeth, brushing by him. “You said you understand. If you actually do, don’t wallow. You’re seventeen now Robert. If you really want a casual fuck that badly,” Robert gasped. Kasalis ignored him and continued. “I’ll buy you one with a barren whore.” Robert fell silent. Kasalis strode forth, leaving him behind. Weariness welled, dragging down her aching body.  _ ‘Blood of Akarat… I need a drink _ .’

Robert closed his mouth. The woodland around him teemed with the sounds of life. The young man leaned back, reclining against a tree. ‘ _ She doesn’t normally speak like that… _ ’ Gentle wind blew by.  _ ‘Light above… I’ve really made her cross, haven’t I? _ ’ Groaning, the young man pushed himself up. Embers of indignation flared.  _ ‘No idea why… she’s slept around plenty.’ _ His feet trudged towards the wagons. ‘ _ Never heard nothin’ ‘bout how  _ that _ was wrong _ …’

A tapping broke the young man’s fuming concentration. He turned, scowling. Kaylee grinned, ducking back and raising her hands. “A’right! A’right, I woan’t spook you next.” She rolled her arms back, entwining her fingers behind herself. She raised her head, meeting Robert’s eyes. “Watcha talking to yur master ‘bout?” Robert narrowed his eyes, anger burning bright. “Robert?...” Her voice trailed off. Her smile fell. 

“Talking about nothing.” Robert turned, striding off. 

Kaylee trotted alongside him. “Oi! Oi!” She grabbed Robert’s arm. “Was about nothin’? Sure got yur nickers twisted to be nothin’.”

Robert growled, shaking her off. “I said, it’s nothing!” His steps did not falter.

Kaylee folded her arms, raising her voice. “My arse it’s nothing! Now, you don’t hav to tell me if’n ya don’t like, but don’ lie ta me and ‘spect me to believe it!”

Robert halted, hunching his shoulders and inhaling deeply. “She said to stop talking to you.” Kaylee gasped.  _ ‘A lie...but she might as well have said it. _ ’ Robert turned enough to see her indignant frown. “Aye. Said you were a bad influence. Not to speak to you any longer.” Something within muttered at him. ‘ _ No, she didn’t. Stop lying to make yourself feel better. _ ’

Kaylee huffed, resting her hands along her hips. “Why, the nerve a that ol’ bint!” Robert’s stomach twinged. “What’s that worn out, fussy, raggedy ol’ hen got agains’ me!?” Robert frowned, anger subsiding.

“Now, hol…” Robert began to speak. Kaylee waved her hand, speaking over him.

“What? That ol’ bitch jus upset she can’t get any?” Robert steeled his face.  _ ‘Bitch? My mother? _ ’

“Has to make ‘er ‘prentices be stuffy and bitter as ‘er?”

Kaylee folded her arms once more, shaking her head. “Tha nerve a ‘er. See’s someone gettin’ ‘ffection and has a hissy!” Robert’s hands tensed, creaking under strain. “Jus’ cause ‘er bits is all dried up don’...”

Robert lunged forward, grasping her shoulder. His hand tightened like iron. “Ow! Bugger! Wha’s...”

The young crusader jerked her forward, pressing his face near hers. “Shut. Up.” He hissed through clenched teeth. “That is my mother you’re speaking about.” Kaylee opened her mouth, eyes widening. “I hear another cross word about her out of you and I’ll personally acquaint your filthy mouth with the ground.” He shoved her back, twisting his hips and back with the movement. Kaylee flew back, hitting the ground firmly.

Robert spun, stomping away. Kaylee sputtered, coughing violently. Robert rolled his shoulders. He exhaled deeply.  _ ‘Blast...got carried away didn’t I?’ _ His stride slowed. ‘ _ Still...can’t believe her nerve. _ ’ Rounding the rearmost wagon, he stilled, leaning back against the sturdy wooden frame.  _ ‘Go off, spouting nonsense about someone.’ _ Heaviness gnawed his stomach.  _ ‘I only spoke a little lie...didn’t insult her name… _ ’ Cold guilt ensnared him. _ ‘Not my fault. No. She’s a rotter. _ ’ Robert rubbed his arms, shaking his head and righting himself. ‘ _ Should go find mother. Get the recuperating folk up on this wagon. _ ’ He glanced about. Several hoisted a wounded man towards him. Robert snapped into action, stepping inside the wagon and accepting the man. He shifted his weight, holding the man's bulk with his arms while supporting the man’s weight upon his legs. A woman and three children bustled about, clearing the sides of the wagon to hold the men.

Robert shifted his weight, leaning from one foot to another. “So…” A rough voice spoke from his arms. Robert glanced down. The mercenary wriggled slightly, eyes flitting nervously. “Gonna put me down?” He offered Robert a wry grin. “This is a bit of a…” he fell silent. “...compromising?... situation.” He chuckled slightly.

Robert laughed, rumbling slightly. “Aye friend, I’ll set you down soon as I can.” The woman clicked her tongue, patting an open space. A single cushion rested at the head. Robert nodded, gingerly leveling the man in place. The woman spoke to the man, chattering lightly while she offered him a waterskin. Robert grinned, returning to the front of the wagon. A man and woman carried another injured, transferring him to Robert. Confusion pulled their eyes. Robert merely smiled, hefting the man into his arms. Turning about, he placed the man upon another empty space. A short whistle sounded from the wagon entrance.

Kasalis cradled the man Robert healed with Kaylee. A fierce blush burned the man’s face, and he fidgeted uncontrollably. Kasalis grinned. “Glad to see you’re up and moving Robby.” Robert bowed his head, moving slower. He accepted the wounded man, placing him in the last empty space. Robert surveyed the wagon.  _ ‘Everything in place… men grumpy but safe _ …’ he nodded, hopping down from the wagon. He rolled his shoulders, falling back against the wooden frame. A weight sunk next to him. He relaxed his neck, glancing aside. Kasalis leaned next to him. Her eyes weighed heavy, and exhaustion pulled her fine features. His mother paused a moment, breathing deeply. A wineskin met her lips, and she sipped the strong smelling contents within.

Robert eased his body, leaning into her. His shoulder pushed hers. Kasalis grunted softly. People loaded into the three wagons, returning slowly to normalcy. The wind blew gently, and the sounds of nature trilled out in full glory. Kasalis dropped her head against Robert's shoulder. “Robby…Robby you are a pain in the arse sometimes, you know that?” She met his eyes from her tilted position, quirking a brow.

Robert groaned, slimy embarrassment writhing through his core. “You’re no better, mother.” He lifted his arm, displacing her. Her strong fingers flicked his arm. “What? Upset I called you on hypocrisy?” 

  
Kasalis sighed, standing straight. “Would you stop that?” She folded her arms, hunching over an inch. “Or...do you actually believe that?”   
  
Robert paused. The caravaneer called out, sounding the go-ahead. Kaylee stormed past, eyes locked firmly to the ground. Horses whinnied, pulling into motion. Quiet conversation increased in volume. The wagon he rested against moved, forcing him to stand. “No…” Robert dropped his head. “No, I don’t.”


	10. Chapter 10

Coins clinked into Kasalis’ palm. Robert shifted, rolling his frame. Several men passed by, clad in patchwork and untrusting expressions. Collected sweat, stale beer, and compounding refuse expelled their wretched vapors. The dead air sunk low. The city buzzed fiercely, the clamor of trade sounded clear. Buildings of soot stained stone and wood jutted along the muck-stained canals. Decay and degradation weighed the old buildings down, and the people skittered to and fro beneath their tired shadows. _‘Hate the cities_ …’ Robert shivered, eyeing down the alleyway opposite him. ‘ _Don’t feel right...so cramped... so dishonest_ …’ The caravaneer turned, walking swiftly away. Kasalis sighed. The coins fell into her pouch. One gold and thirty three silvers. She smiled, eyes dragging low. “Well Robby, payment.” Robert nodded, discreetly touching his tightly secured coin pouch, ninety-ninety silver heavier. _‘Sod payed one less than a gold on purpose.’_ He scowled, shifting the heavy pouch. _‘Need to exchange this immediately…’_ Kasalis smiled, lines carved through her fair skin. “Let us visit the bank, eh?”  
Robert nodded, standing straight. He pulled the strings tightly on his shield and belt. “Aye. No need to live in the past.” He flexed his calves, bobbing in place. “Bitterness is wasted on men like him.” 

Kasalis smiled, nodding. “I’m glad you think so.” Folding her arms, she walked steadily forward. Her armor and shield jut proudly out, drawing every eye. Some moved aside, nervous eyes tracking her movement. Some glanced greedily, eyes tracking the visible wealth. She stood tall, fatigued and steadfast. Seedy eyes turned aside, dissuaded by the dull scratches marring her equipment. Several hawkers stood upon corners. Their voices cried out, promoting first one market house and then another. Robert followed along, holding his shoulders firm and eyes steely. ‘ _ Gotta look tough, gotta look tough, gotta look tough _ …’ His inner voice echoed the mantra. Kasalis stopped. Robert stumbled, nearly walking into her. Her brow quirked up, following her smirk. “You’re trying far too hard Robby.”

The young man groaned. He scrubbed his hair fitfully. “Well it’s not like I know what I’m doing!” He huffed and folded his arms. “Anyway, how can you tell?” His brows furrowed, and his frown turned pensive.

Kasalis winked, some vigor returning to her stride. “‘Sall in the eyes, sweetling.” She chuckled, resuming her leisurely pace. “Yours looked like you wanted to bolt the first moment you got.” Her words carried over her shoulder, barely discernible over the din of the city. “Really, Robby. You’re fine.” Her bright smile flashed over her shoulder. “Just be confident. You’ve no need to _ try _ and look tough.”

A man bumped into Robert, murmuring expletives. Robert’s hand instinctively clamped upon his pouch, and the other man’s hand. The man lifted his eyes, hate scrunching his stout features. Robert breathed the knot from his stomach, and smiled. “Now I…” The man began to speak.

Robert raised his clenched fist, releasing the man’s hand. “Oh it is quite all right.” He lowered his brows and grinned wider. “I’m just glad I caught your fall...  _ right _ ?” The last word nearly whispered.

“...Aaa...aye.” The man lifted his hand, flexing it. “Thanks for...catching me.” He shoved his hands deep in his trouser pockets and turned, pace hurried.

Kasalis laid her hand upon Robert's shoulder. Leaning in, she spoke softly. “Well handled sweetling.” Her hand squeezed and released. “Better to make friends than enemies.” She continued her walk, remaining close. “He’ll remember that, and won’t try it again.” Her grin broke into a smile. “And giving mercy always makes folk more friendly. Looks surly now, but thats just ‘cause you caught him”

Robert exhaled heavily. Adrenaline pumped through his body, and tapered off. The tension in his shoulders and chest relaxed. “Just thankful you taught me about that…” He muttered. 

Kasalis sighed, voice lilting towards joy. The two walked together, Kasalis navigating the lively city while Robert followed along. The stress of the city writhed along his spine. The two remained quiet and after another half hour of travel arrived before the town hall. The building stood high, a simple structure of stout stone. Robert nodded, hope rising.  _ ‘Not like other manors I’ve seen… _ ’ A small trail of people reached in and out.  _ ‘Seems an actual center… at least it  _ looks _ honest.’ _ The people entering held their heads higher. Shoulders unhunched. The respect shown unconsciously straightened Robert's spine. Kasalis entered the sovereign statehouse, Robert close behind.

The pair entered through the honest entrance. Light poured in through windows in the second level and roof. Sparse decoration stood outside the well-worn pathways. Several folk stood before a lavish desk, formed into an orderly line. A thin woman worked industriously behind the desk. Another more robust woman sat and spoke politely, directing and dismissing those in line.

Kasalis entered the small queue, humming softly. She clasped her hands behind her back, standing steady and patient. Robert fell into line behind her, mirroring her pose.  _ ‘Always so composed… _ ’ He smiled wide, and glanced around the room. ‘ _ Never wavering...never breaking…’  _ Familial pride swelled his heart.  _ ‘Glad to be her son. Her apprentice.’ _ The line stepped forward. Robert followed along, thoughts idling. He leaned his head back. The line moved. Robert followed. Kasalis spoke to the woman, exchanging three lines of dialogue Robert could not discern.

Kasalis stepped left, exiting the queue. Roberts feet followed. The pair passed under a chandelier into an open hallway. They turned another corner and entered a suspiciously sturdy door. A brilliant mural window shone light, illuminating the room. An elderly man, willowy and gaunt, scratched an inked quill meticulously. He glanced at the parchment, smiling wide. “Ahh...excuse me.” The man straightened, setting the quill inside his inkwell. He intertwined his hands and propped up his chin. “Pietio Brilling, a pleasure. What business have you today?”

“Money exchange.” Kasalis spoke, gesturing to her son. “My apprentice Robert needs to change his silvers for a gold.” Robert stepped forward, nodding.

The man nodded, dusky cheeks settling into an easy smile. “Certainly. Approach.” He beckoned. Robert stepped forward, clasping his hands behind his back. “How many coins do you seek to exchange today?”

Robert smiled, nodding. “One hundred silvers to one gold.” He brought his hand to his pouch and loosened it. The pouch settled lightly atop the table.

Pietio turned in his chair. “Very well sir. The customary gratuitance fee shall apply.” A key ring swung easily into his fingers. He unlocked a heavy door , and swung it open. Robert tilted his head.  _ ‘Bloody hell does that mean?’ _ Pietio extracted several heavy boxes. “The fee shall be extracted from available funds during exchange.” Robert furrowed his brow. The heavy cases settled. “If insufficient funds are present, the entirety of the transaction shall be delayed until…”

Robert spoke, raising his hand. “Excuse me sir…” Pietio glanced aside, quirking a brow. “...I…” Robert ducked his head, lowering his voice. “You said something about a fee.” His hand raised defensively. “What is that? What do you mean?”

Pietio sighed, folding his hands and resting them upon his chest. “Simple. A fee: a cost administered in addition to or for a service or good.” He leaned back, eyes steady and locked to Roberts. 

Robert frowned. “No…” He scratched his head. “I know what a fee is...I don’t know what those other words mean.” 

Pietio breathed heavily through his nostrils. “Very well…” Pietio paused, inhaling and exhaling. “The customary gratuitance fee is a simple charge that is applied for a service.”

Robert tilted his head. “I...maybe I don’t understand…” He brought his other hand forth, folding them together. “What service?” Pietio dropped his grin. “You’re just… counting and changing coins aren’t you?” 

Pietio frowned. “Excuse me?” Pietio tilted his head, turning slightly towards Robert. Kasalis took a step forward, stretching her neck. She met Roberts eyes, shaking her head and mouthing “what?”. Pietio spoke quietly, voice calm and controlled. “Do you claim banking is not a service?” He leaned close, turning fully toward. “Surely you jest. Why else would you come here?”

Robert shook his head. “Now hold on…”

Pietio quirked a brow high. “Oh? Do explain.”

“Right. Right…” The young crusader puffed. “I mean… you… you’re just moving some coins right?” Pietio remained silent. “Just… counting and moving coins? That… that’s all?” He scratched his head fiercely. “You… that’s not hard is it? Just… just move some coins? You’d charge for that?”

Pietio sat. After several beats he spoke again. “Listen.” Pietio stood, clasping his hands behind him. “You sound terribly naive.” The elderly man turned, stepping to his window. “Allow me to tell you a brief parable.” He cleared his throat and spoke. “A man, a hunter, lived in a village. All loved and respected him, for he would give any who asked anything they asked. He shot down a great stag, and gave it generously to his neighbor whose eyes saw shorter than his.” Pietio paused. He returned to his desk, and leaned down. A small glass and bottle rose with him. Uncorking the bottle, he poured a pungent golden fluid. “Beasts attacked his village. His bow stayed the slavering fiends, and his popularity grew.” The man sipped the cup, turning around. Kasalis stepped back, resting on her heels. “He hunted, and protected. He attended church. He laughed and played with the children. In all ways, the man was a steadfast pillar of the community.” He spun the cup, swirling the contents gently. Robert frowned, furrowing his brows deeper. “A day came when his hunt landed a beautiful and great bull, more than enough to feed every man woman and child.” He sipped again, sighing happily.

“The mayor requested the beast to hold a grand feast in honor of their great hunter, and he graciously acquiesced. The next day, the village was filled with song and joy, and the mayor asked the hunter to carve his kill. The hunter agreed and took the knife offered.” Pietio brushed his chin, flicking one corner of his mouth. “He cut off the flank of the roasted beast, and placed it upon the mayors platter.” He paused. Several seconds later, he turned. “Do you know what happens next?” Pietio glanced back. Robert shook his head. Turning back to the window, Pietio continued. “The man dropped dead. Starvation hollowed him.” Pietio turned, sunlight obscured his face. “You see, he had given everything to his neighbors. His food, his time, his effort, his life…” He sipped the liquid. Robert clenched his jaw. “He gave so much that nothing was left of himself. Nothing but a memory and reputation.” Robert shifted his weight, looking down. “It is well and good to be generous and amibicle, but giving to all requires substance beyond mortality.”

Pietio breathed in and out. The man moved deliberately, sitting again in his chair. “An enlightening tale, no?” Robert glanced at Kasalis. She held her arms folded. Her eyes met his. She nodded slightly. Robert swiveled back and gave Pietio a short nod. “I’ve no desire to wither away young sir. There is precious little a decrepit ancient such as I can do, but this…” he gestured about his office. “I can provide some service here: accounting.” Pietio set his glass down. “Nearly no other is capable of providing this. Common folk rarely are capable of writing, let alone hold enough public trust and respect to count and move coin.” Pietio folded his fingers and sat forward. “...Let me ask. Can you read and write? How are your mathematics?” 

Robert scowled, fierce anger burning forth. “No.” He bit the word off. His shoulders pinched together. Rolling them, he exhaled lightly. “I don’t know how to read. But my maths are fine.”

The man pursed his lips. “Yes. Thank you for your honesty. Most people within the city limits cannot either.” Pietio smiled, more gently. “Because of this and my excellence at scribing and record keeping, I have been able to establish myself as the accountant and banker for this wonderful city.” The man shook his head. “However I must also eat, and I’ve no desire to live ascetic.” 

Robert grimaced. “Fine. Fine…” He waved his hand, arms tucked tightly together. “As you say.” Burning heat flushed his face. “What you charge, anyway?”

“Fifthteen percent of any and all transactions.” Pietio replied, smoothly resuming his task. “A fair price, no?”

Robert lifted his head and furrowed his brow. “Percent? That’s…” He paused, biting his lip. “Means fifthteen for every hundred, right? That means you’d take fifthteen silvers!?” He dropped his arms, placing them upon his waist. “Fifthteen? For moving and counting coins!?” His voice rose. “That isn’t right!” Pietio ceased movement again, dispassionately observing. “How can you sit there and say that’s right!?” He lifted his head, frowning his growing frustration. “You’d take that much from good folk!? For such a simple service?” His head canted and his mouth fell slightly open. “You’d do that!?”  
Pietio spoke quietly. “Ma’am, please remove your apprentice. He is causing me duress.” The man turned back to his work, counting out coins.

Kasalis snorted, shaking her head. “Alright Robert.” She gripped his shoulder gently. “Please wait outside.” She squeezed his shoulder, offering a weary grin. “I’ll ensure everythings handled.” Her apprentice huffed, stretching his neck. He nodded curtly, and exited the fine room. She waited a moment, leaning against the doorframe. “He is right, you know. That kind of percentage is outrageous.”   
“Ma’am, I provide a needed service.” The man expertly maneuvered coins between box and pouch. “Surely you understand such a thing. You have no need to seek my services.” He flipped the lid of the box closed. “I charge much, yes. I have luxurious tastes.” He pushed the pouch forward. “Fifthteen silvers deducted, as stated.” He replaced one of the boxes. “The people here are willing to pay such a price. And…” He dipped his chin. “So are you.”  
Kasalis took the pouch, opening it and tallying the contents. “That sounds nearly predatory, banker.” She turned her eyes to his. “As you said, it is a needed service.” She closed the pouch. “Can’t much argue with one who holds the grain, hmm?”  
Pietio tilted his head. “I make no claim to sainthood ma’am.” He leaned back, picking up his glass. “But neither am I a villain. I am honest and forthright.” He raised the glass, downing more of the contents. “...There is a charming expression, from Westmarch I believe; ‘It’s just business.” He ended his statement with flourish, dripping arrogance.  
Kasalis exhaled, shoving down her anger. “Aye. Just business.” She tossed the pouch up and down. “Just be careful you don’t slip up.” She focused her eyes. “If you do, my _business_ is correcting things like that.” She turned on her heel.  
Laughter broke from his throat. “Oh really? Ha!” He shook his head, leaning back in his chair. “No one recognizes your authority, crusader. You’d just as soon be hung as me.”  
Kasalis stopped, gripping the doorknob. “I have more pull than you’d think, banker.” She opened the door, exiting and shutting it behind her. Pietio’s laughter followed, muffled behind the stout wood. _‘Smug bastard.’_ Robert stood at attention outside, visage stoic. She patted his chest, leaving the coin pouch in his hand and moved down the hallway. “I don’t like him either, Robby.”  
Her son sighed, deflating the tension holding him high. “Oh good...thank the Light above, that man was insufferable!” He ran his hands through his hair, inhaling deeply. “Thought I might punch him right then and there. Just to wipe the…”  
Kasalis bopped his shoulder. “Don’t start thinking like that. We need to be better than the likes of him.” She rolled her head, meeting his gaze. “Right? We are crusaders Robert. We must be better.”  
He nodded, smirking. “Aye. To redeem the faith.” His steps slowed. “...Mother…” His arms folded, and he breathed deep. “Are we really any better?” He queried softly. “I mean, we…”  
Kasalis turned, grabbing his cheeks. “Robert.” She pulled his chin, lifting hers to meet his eyes directly. “Robert listen to me: We are better than him.” He remained silent. “We charge people yes, but I would protect the innocent even without pay.” A pause lingered. “Would you?”  
He nodded, answering immediately. “Of course. I would never allow evil to strike down the innocent.”

Her hands pulled him down. She planted a kiss on his brow. “Exactly Robert. We charge people _only_ because we _need_ money.” Moving one hand to his shoulder, she released her grip. “Not because we _like_ money. There is a great difference, sweetling.” Her hand gently tightened. “Never forget that.” Dropping her body against his, she sighed happily. “Now...that’s all taken care of. Let’s find an inn, hmm?”  
Robert embraced her, pulling her tight against his frame. “Aye. Lets.” He sighed, releasing the tension boiling in his gut. “I could use a stiff drink.” 

Kasalis pushed him away, swatting his shoulder. “No you don’t. You’re far too young to be drinking heavily!” She scolded, smile not wavering. “You’ll get a softer drink, and no more than three at that.” 

Robert laughed, hooking his hands behind his head. “Oh very well...I guess I’ll stick to beers, mother.” He grinned, tilting his head to her. “And I suppose you’ll be finding a man for the night?”

Quirking a brow, she folded her arms. “Perhaps. Maybe not.” She grinned, anxiety simmering up. “Why? You disapprove?” 

Her son shook his head. “No. No…” The tension in the air lightened. “I’m just still a bit sore over it is all. I don’t condemn you your pleasures mother.” He smirked, a flicker of bitterness shimmering through his blue eyes. “Just...maybe a bit jealous is all.”

She brushed her hair behind her ear, sucking her lip in. “Well… I mean you’re free to leave this life if you break your oath Robert.” They walked forward quietly. “Any time you want, really.”

Robert breathed in, and out. “Right. Any time I’m willing to leave you and my honor behind…”


	11. Chapter 11

Tagaan lifted his bowl, sipping the hearty broth. His family sat around their fire, subdued and anxious. Nostomo, seated across from his son and near his mate, strained his withered and scarred right arm. The bowl clamped in his weakened fingers trembled. Nostomo flexed his shoulder, lifting the bowl from the floor. His arm shook.  _ ‘He won’t make it.’ _ Tagaans ears flicked anxiously. ‘ _ That arm is useless now…the clan even ignored his order to leave...’ _ The contents of the bowl sloshed. Nostomo snorted, visage stoney and stoic. The bowl reached his chest.  _ ‘And… _ ’ The bowl slipped from the rams fingers, clattering against the floor. Nostomo howled in fury, feebly pushing the bowl with his mangled right. The mighty ram dipped his head, breath hitching. Daavi sat, eating her own soup. Her ears flickered. She grabbed another bowl from nearby, filling it smoothly with the soup over their fire. Nostomo snorted, raising his head. The cracked and blackened horns atop his head shook. His ears tucked tight against his skull. Daavi placed the bowl before him. He spoke, voice quiet and choked. “Don’t coddle me woman…” 

Daavi flicked her ears. “You don’t mean that.” Her voice rang clear, strained and high. Daavansa dipped her head, ears rigid. Haazixan sat silent. 

Nostomo flexed his arm, back creaking under his tensing frame. Tension surged in the suffocatingly cramped hut. Haazixan mewled, squirming in his sister's lap. His elder shushed him, rubbing his growing horns. “Father…” Tagaan spoke quietly.

His father's skeletal fingers gripped the lip of the bowl. Nostomos eyes blazed, locking on his son. “Quiet. Mind your tongue.” The elder ram muttered. He grunted, straining his once strong arm. The bowl rose. Nostomo huffed, breath straining. The bowl rattled, spilling the liquid. Daavi flicked her ears. Haazixan nudged deeper into Daavansa. The bowl clattered to the floor. Nostomo howled in fury, tearing the sky with his wrathful lament. He slammed his strong left into the wooden bowl, shattering the fine wood into spinning splinters. Nostomo lifted his hand, shaking the bleeding and torn appendage. His fingers twitched limply, broken and unresponsive. Haazixan mewled, ears tucked back in terror. Nostomo lifted his head, holding his ears back and high. His eyes looked over his terrified lamb. ‘ _ Terrified...of me… _ ’ Nostomo steeled himself, standing swiftly and marching from the tent. ‘ _ Better to leave...spare him...keep him safe _ …’ He slowed his pace, lifting his head. The stars above shone, partnered by the two shimmering moons. ‘ _ I’m scaring them…my little Haazi…Tagaan... my beautiful Daavansa…my mate… _ ’ His throat choked, sorrow clamping fiercely. The mighty ram continued his pace, even and smooth form a lifetime of hunting. He flopped his powerful frame down. Pains and aches roared. Scars of long forgotten hunts and fights hurt anew. The bones of his arms, broken and healed so many times, pulsed with agony. The newly broken fingers of his left screamed. His muscle, stretched and torn innumerable times, twitched from lingering damage and pain. _ ‘Not mighty any longer _ …’ The withered twig jutt from his torso, hanging limply.  _ ‘Just an old ram...an elder…a chief whose clan ignores him...’ _ His ears pressed down in sorrow.  _ ‘One who must be  _ protected _...who can’t defend his mate…’ _ A mournful cry, quiet and intense, tore from his throat.  _ ‘Daavi...I cannot protect you anymore...I...I cannot let you speak your beautiful mind _ …’ He stretched his exhausted legs out, slumping upon himself. ‘I _ cannot fight anymore...cannot fight to keep your voice safe...I am sorry my heart… _ ’ His ears held tight to his neck.  _ ‘I am sorry...I am so sorry _ …’ His left hand clasped a rock upon the ground, smooth and clean. He flexed his hand, straining his broken appendages. He pressed his sorrow into the stone. .  _ ‘I am so sorry…’ _

Tagaan snorted, stilling his breath. The flap of their hut fluttered, still drifting in the breeze of his father's departure. Haazixan mewled, small lungs hitching. “Bato...” His tiny voice squeaked. “Is Bato mad?”

Daavi sipped her bowl, ears drooping. She breathed in, and spoke. “Yes balam.” Daavansa hugged her brother close. Tagaans stomach lurched.  _ ‘Why does it hurt so to hear it out loud _ ?...’ “Your Bato is very angry.” Haazixan cried out, loud and long. Daavi stood, striding to her son and daughter. She kneeled, gently pressing her head to his. “Not at you balam...never at you.” Haazixan whimpered, tiny ears trembling. Tagaan stretched his arm, gripping Haazixans. The lamb quieted, fear and anxiety dying before his family's onslaught. Adrenaline faded. Sorrow consumed fear. 

“Mother...” Daavansa muttered, covering Haazixan’s head gently. “Are you alright?” Daavi nodded, pulling back and resting on her haunches. “Father…is father alright?” 

Daavi flicked her ears tiredly. “He is hurt.” She spoke quiet and low. “How could he not be?” She held her hands out, and Daavansa handed the lamb to her. “That is his main arm. Hurt like that…” She stood, bouncing Haazixan gently. “He cannot hunt any longer. He cannot fight.” Haazixan drifted, clinging to his mother. Daavansa moved about, taking a small basket and dumping its dirt on their fire. “He cannot demand challenges any longer. In all ways but name, he is…” Daavi tucked her chin into Haazixan. “He is no longer chieftain.”

Tagaan huffed, a low rumble echoed out from his chest.  _ ‘That...that is true. _ ’ Tagaan lowered his head.  _ ‘How could he issue a challenge? _ ’ The dead fire wafted smoke wafted lazily. Outside their hut crickets buzzed and chirped.  _ ‘Ancestors below… how could he _ accept _ a challenge?’ _ Daavi lay down, cuddling her lamb close. Daavansa grabbed the sturdy fire poker, ears wilted and tired. Tagaan sighed deeply.  _ ‘If he is no longer chieftain… what am I?’ _ His sister prodded their fire, still kneeling delicately. She cleared her throat, and spoke quietly. “Tagaan… it is all right.” Tagaan lifted his head. Daavansa ceased her movement, lifting her head. “Father...you…” The fire crackled, dying down slowly. “You are both strong. Strong beyond ‘maleness’.”

The wind rose, blowing stronger through the kin land. “Sister…what do you mean strength beyond ‘maleness’?” Tagaan clenched his fist, looking over his lean and strong palm. “Maleness is strength. The lack of maleness is weakness.”

Daavansa flicked her ears. Her breath rumbled. “Maleness has strength. Just as femaleness has strength. Maleness is  _ not _ strength.” Tagaan flapped his ears curiously. “You and father are mighty. But that might is not your strength.” Daavansa stood, rising elegantly. Her well trimmed hooves clapped against the worn floor. “Your strength… our father's strength is from your heart. Your mind.” Daavansa kneeled behind him. Her hands gently took his warrior braids. She unwound them, allowing his mane to fall free. Tagaan leaned his head back, the gentle tugs of his sister soothing him. “Any number of males are your equal in muscle and brawn.” His braids reformed under her delicate hand. “But I have yet to meet those your equal in spirit. You and father are good men. You do not fight and hunt for ‘maleness’. For pride. You two fight for us.” She shifted, brushing his horns. “For kin, and honor. That. Why you fight, gives you strength beyond brawn. Strength to stand when others would fall. Others whose strength was greater.” The wind blew outside, nudging the huts flap. “That might, the might of your will, is what I speak of.” She rested her hands on his shoulders. “Father is wounded… he is not broken.” Her forehead pressed against his neck. “He will be alright, but only with time.”

Tagaan mewled, voicing his tired sorrow. Daavansa gripped his shoulders, humming gently. “Balo...what should we do?” His voice barely whispered. “How do we help him?”

Daavansa rubbed his spirit horn, tracing his rune. “We stand there with our father. We do not leave him to suffer alone.” Tagaan tilted his head, pressing his rune into his sister's palm.

“Your sister is wise, Tagaan.” His mother whispered. Haazixan stirred in her arms. “Perhaps a woman can be right, no?” Daavansa and Tagaan shared chuckles.“We can only be with him. This fight is his alone, but he can take strength from us.” Haazixan mumbled, stirring in his sleep.

Daavansa released their embrace. Tagaan looked away, watching the gently fluttering tent flap. His sister stood and walked to her sleeping fur. The wind blew softly. Daavansa lay down, exhaustion dragging her body to the plane below.  _ ‘Ancestors below...calm my father's heart. Return him to us. _ ’ She turned, settling into her sleeping position.  _ ‘Tagaan is not old enough to take such responsibility, and I cannot. Spare my brother. Spare my father. Elders of my elders, heed my prayer.’ _ She concluded her prayer, allowing herself to rest.

Tagaan pushed himself up. “I’ll go talk to him.” He whispered. Daavi muttered assent. Daavansa remained silent, asleep or distracted. Pushing the flap aside, he exited their hut.

Cold wind blew down the mountain peaks. Terraced farmland sprung with hardy grains. The lush grass of the kin lands waved in the autumn breeze. ‘ _ We never could convince anyone to leave...it was always  _ next cycle _ , but now?...’ _ Nostomo sat upon a rock, far away and facing the setting sun. Tagaan walked down the slope of his clans land. Small fires dotted the mountain side, tended by families and lone sentinels. Tagaan’s shoulders slumped.  _ ‘When was the last time we had to stand watch? _ ’ His hooves clapped against the worn soil. He raised his hand, saluting a far off sentinel. _ ‘He could be with his family, resting...if not for humans. _ ’ Tagaan approached his father and stamped his hoof politely. The ram’s powerful form hunched over, withered arm draped aside himself and his other clutching something tight. Tagaan flicked his ears forward. “Father?...”

Nostomo hunched his shoulders, tensing his frame. “Go back to bed.” His voice cut hoarsely. The ram snorted. His head drooped.

Tagaan stepped forward. “I...father I…” Crickets chirped. 

Nostomo growled, his chest rumbling deep. “Tagaan. Go. To. Bed.” He flicked the object in his hand away, apparently deaf to the screaming pain of his broken fingers. Cracked pebbles scattered down the slope. 

Tagaan drew in breath and straightened himself. “No. We need to talk.” Nostomo stilled. “I...I must say a few things.”

Nostomo rose. His powerful muscles tensed. “What?...” His father turned his head. Tagaan shrunk back. In Nostomo’s eyes, searing fury simmered. “I am your Father. Obey me!” Nostomo faced his son fully. Rage held his figure high and tight.

Tagaan stiffened his spine. “I will obey my father if he speaks to me!” Anger and fear loosed his tongue. The night fell silent. _ ‘Ancestors below, what am I saying? _ ’ Nostomo lifted his head, ears twitching in confusion and frustration.  _ ‘Too late now...I have chosen. Time to see this through.’ _ Tagaan bayed quietly, voicing his frustration. “I would listen to him! He is a man of strength and wisdom!” Nostomo clenched his back and shoulders. “This creature before me? This man who sulks and shouts at kin!?” Nostomo strained his shoulders, bringing his arms up. Tension spewed from Tagaan with every spoken word.

Nostomo bared his teeth. “Silence, cur!” His voice croaked, choking on sorrow and rising anger. “You will listen to your chieftain and father!” His great chipped hoof slammed forward. His hackles lifted, every hair standing on end.

Tagaan’s stomach lurched, abject terror swallowing his hammering heart.  _ ‘He is…seeing him like this…’ _ Tagaan stiffened his ears, willing himself to stoicism. ‘ _ The visage of a warrior...a warrior as mighty as the ancestors of old facing me down… _ ’ He breathed in and out.  _ ‘Terrifying .’  _ His eyes hardened despite his fear. “My father does not hide! My father does not...not…” Tagaan’s ears fluttered, drooping in sorrow. “My father would not…” His body lost its rigidity. “He would not...give up.” Pain raked Tagaans ears. 

Nostomo reared back, huffing deeply. “What!? I have never given up!” Powerful kicks hammered the earth. “Are you blind, boy!? I sat before you for hours, raising a bowl over and over!” Nostomo snorted and lowered his head. “How is that surrender?”

Tagaan scuffed his hoof, willing courage to rise. “You… you have…” He cleared his throat. “You have given up on...on today.” His eyes raised, meeting his fathers. “In favor of yesterday, you surrender today.” Instinctive flicks jolted his ears. 

Nostomo flexed his ears. “What? What even does that mean?” Savage muscle relaxed. Nostomo exhaled, expelling tension. 

_ ‘Good...he is starting to listen… _ ’ Tagaan clamped his jaw, steeling himself.  _ ‘How to explain _ …’ His head swayed gently. “You...you abandon your duties,” His eyes pierced. “And your family, seeking what you lost last year.” Nostomo flicked his ears back. “Yes. You sat in there for hours, yes, sat in there terrifying your lamb and us!” His father's ears dropped, pressing tightly against his sturdy neck. “Seeking to strengthen your arm father?” Tagaan lowered his voice, questioning earnestly. “Or seeking to reclaim it?”

Nostomo shifted, dropping his head. “I...of course I seek to reclaim it.” Strength fled him, dropping his body to the stone below. “How else can I protect you? Your mother? Haazi?...” The old ram bleated softly. “How can I remain chieftain with…” His withered arm twitched. “...this?” 

Tagaan sat, allowing his body to relax. “A father is to protect and guide. You have protected us for long, and I know you are still fearsome when provoked.” Cold wind ruffled his mane. “But… we still need your guidance father.”

Quiet rose. The wind blew gently. “What guidance can I offer you Tagaan?” His father slouched over, speaking softly towards the ground. “What words of wisdom have I not already shared?” Nostomo looked up, light from the bright moon reflecting in his tired brown eyes.

Tagaan remained silent.  _ ‘Just a few more words...honesty is best...honesty is best...’ _ He cleared his throat, looking to the starry skies above. “Guidance is not only teaching. And I need you father...you are a good and honest man.” Tagaan champed his teeth. “Every day, there is some task or problem I reflect on your teachings to accomplish.” The wind slowed. “And even then, you know I speak of them to you at night, seeking your approval. You are still needed...I still need you.” Tagaans ears slapped against his neck, emphasizing his sorrow and frustration. “And Haazixan...he has not learned from you yet. And Daavansa… and mother. We still need you father.”

Nostomo’s ears flicked. A gust tugged his mane. Seconds passed. Nostomo pulled himself straighter, seeming to contemplate something. Tagaan waited, tracing the stars above. Minutes passed. Fatigue crept upon both. Nostomo spoke. “We need sleep Tagaan. Let us return home.” The ram stood, some vestige of strength returning. His son stood, ears standing in relief and happiness. “I will...I will think on what you have said.”

  
Tagaan gripped his fathers shoulder, squeezing it gently. Nostomo flicked his ears forward.  _ ‘Perhaps...perhaps he listened?’ _ Laughter rumbled deep within himself.  _ ‘No...don’t get your hope up. That would have been far too easy.’ _ Father and son walked quietly. Their hut called ahead, promising warmth and rest.  _ ‘But I’ve said my piece. Time for the others to say theirs. _ ’ He followed his father, entering the dark and familiar space. Nostomo silently moved to his mate's side, resting himself beside her. Daavi whispered to him, far too quiet to hear. Daavansa lay in her bedroll, apparently asleep. Tagaan moved to his and sunk down, lacking the grace of his father.  _ ‘But not tonight...tonight we rest. We have done enough today _ …’ He closed his eyes, welcoming sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

Tagaan blinked awake. Memory of whimsical dreams fluttered.  _ ‘Bright sunny land…rainbows? And pots of little golden metal pieces? _ ’ He stretched his frame, rising upon his sleeping fur and remembering.  _ ‘Such...bizarre creatures. Small flowers whipping my ankles? Pudgy horses with horns charging me? Tiny mammals, stitched up the sides with hard  _ fake _ faces?’ _ He huffed and looked about. Daavansa sat primly, sewing a torn hide expertly. The rest of his family remained absent. His ears flicked forward, and he rubbed his face. “Good morning Daavansa.” He stood, tired mind churning. _ ‘Enough of that. Father’s likely already up and hunting. Mother is probably speaking to her friends, and Haazi should be around here somewhere _ …’ Grabbing a piece of smoked elk from above the fire, he plopped it in his mouth. “Did father tell you where he’s hunting today?”

Daavansa dipped her head, ears perked high in good humor. “Good morning Tagaan.” Her deft needlework continued. “And no, in truth.” She met her brother’s tired and confused eyes. “I believe he mentioned a gathering and took mother along.” 

Tagaan blinked, ears stiff and to the side. His stomach lurched. ‘ _ The gathering! Why would he let me sleep!?’ _ The young ram jerked into motion, rushing towards the entrance. “Why was I not woken!?” He sputtered out.

Daavansa stifled a chuckle, ears wiggling with mirth. “Father said after last night's hunt you should be allowed to sleep. The reward of a ‘mighty warrior’.” She motioned her head towards the entrance, long and sharp horns waving gently. “Go. They left only moments ago.”

Tagaan lowered his head, clenching his fist against his chest in gratitude. “Thank you, Daavansa.” She flicked her ears.

Bright sunlight assailed Tagaan, blinding the ram momentarily. Rapid blinks cleared his vision. Setting his body, he spurred his legs into a swift jog. Khazra moved about the kin lands, going about their daily business. Farmland extended beyond easy sight.  _ ‘So much more land to protect… _ ’ His hooves clapped against the hard path.  _ ‘Such foolishness, this farming _ …’ His ears flicked.  _ ‘I cannot deny the usefulness though… _ ’ Tracking the empty path to the Cave of Elders, Tagaan increased his pace. His eyes darted about, seeking his brother. _ ‘Ah, good. _ ’ Haazixan trot along the furrowed rows of a farm, bawling excitedly amongst three other younglings.  _ ‘Running and leading already _ …’ His heart swelled in pride. ‘ _ What a fine hunter he will be! _ ’

The Cave of Elders opened ahead, Becc standing silent sentinel. Tagaan halted, inclining his head and pressing his ears forth. Becc flicked his ears forward in acknowledgment. Tagaan lifted his head and strode forth. 

The entrance of the Cave burst with clansmen. Tagaan maneuvered through the gathering of elders to stand before the Clan-Stone. He withdrew his skinning knife and cut his palm. After pressing it to the Clan-Stone, he continued on. A sense of warmth and protection fell over him. Elders of every family line milled in the room.  _ ‘I see no war-pack leaders _ …’ His ears flicked in irritation, before his eyes glanced over a familiar figure.  _ ‘Ah good! But...why is mother standing out here? Shouldn’t she be in the Ancestors Shrine? _ ’ His ears perked curiously, Tagaan nimbly approached his mother. 

Daavi pressed her ears forward, reaching out a hand and gripping his body horn. She spoke softly over the throng, the stiffness of her ears visible. “Good morning my brave hunter. Did you sleep well?” 

Tagaan gripped his mother's hand, embarrassment bubbling up. ‘ _ She really doesn’t care what others think, does she?’ _ His hands removed hers and clasped it between them. “Mother, please…allow me some dignity…” His ears stood, anxious and curious. “Why are you not in the Shrine? Did you decide against sharing your wisdom?” His ears wiggled with his jest, before stilling and falling.

Daavi did not flinch, merely pressing her ears back. “No my Tagaan. I would share it, but…”

He cut his mother off, moving closer to her. “Then we shall go. We enter at once.” His hands dropped hers and gripped her shoulders, attempting a gentle pull.

Motionless, Daavi flicked her ears further back. “...Please do not interrupt me Tagaan.” 

Tagaan recoiled, eyes widely staring into hers. “Mother? I...I am sorry. Of course I will let you speak.” His chest tightened. ‘ _ What was that? A meek request? From her? Ancestors below...is she alright? _ ’

Daavi’s ears lost some tension, moving forward and down. “Thank you.” She grasped his left hand, squeezing softly. “As I said, I would share my wisdom, If the others would allow me.” Tagaan jut his ears up. “I cannot enter now, balam.” His ears flicked forward. “Your father…”

Tagaan grabbed her hand, squeezing it. “But why not!?” He dropped his head, swinging it slightly. “You have always attended the meetings you wish to! Why do you not attend this one?”

Daavi lowered her head, ears flickering in amusement. “...I thought you would not interrupt me.” Tagaan dropped his ears and head, shame crashing over him. She laughed, low and quiet. “So eager, my little balam. And in answer to your question; I have already told you, I cannot.” Her hands traced up and down his arms. “As I said, your father is the reason why I could attend the clan meetings.” Tagaan lifted his head, ears tense and questioning. Daavi’s ears dropped, all strength leaving them. “Oh my sweet innocent boy...I am a woman Tagaan. I could only enter because your father challenged any who questioned it.” His ears pressed back and flat. “Even then, he had to repeat anything I said for the elders to listen. Your father is doing better, but that ‘hunting accident’ slew my voice.”

Tagaan forced his back to relax. “Mother...I…” He gripped her shoulders. “I… I don’t even know what to say…”. His mind raced.  _ ‘All those times father would repeat her words? I always thought it was just the reaffirming of a chieftain…speaking up and ensuring the words were heard. _ ..’

Daavi perked her ears up, weariness forcing them stiff. “It is alright balam. You do not need to say anything. I choose this. I could walk in and seat myself next to Nostomo, and he would defend me...but the risk I would put him through? The pain of fighting a challenge with his arm?” She flicked her ears back. “The possibility of his death and failure? That risk was near nothing before. My pride isn’t worth that. I’ll not hurt my family just to say my piece. I’ll not risk you for my desires.”

The kin around spoke quietly, all absorbed in their own discussions. Tagaan mewled softly, bringing his forehead to his mother’s. “Mother…” He pressed his head forward.  _ ‘What injustice...she is easily as wise as a shaman _ …’ He fell quiet. “I swear to you...I will never ignore your wisdom.”

His mother bleat out a chuckle. “Oh my sweet boy… thank you.” Her ears wiggled. “I will hold you to that.” Their embrace split and she gazed away. “Now go, you’re already late.”

He flicked his ears forward, rising to stand. “Yes mother.” He turned and strode into the Ancestor’s Shrine. The fine cloth parted. Tagaan blinked. Gah, Bezinla, Rika, Toov, and the other war-leaders radiated tension. Nostomo stood apart, holding himself high. The wound of two years past hung his right arm limp, but his left swelled with strength. His horns remained cracked and wounded, slowly returning to a resplendent crest. Tagaan lurched, stomach churning.  _ ‘Perhaps the others cannot see...but his eyes hold fear _ …’ 

“Ah.” Gah spoke, ears perked up and back. “I see your spawn finally arrived,  _ mighty chieftain _ .” He flickered his ears and folded his arms. “May we finally begin then?”

Nostomo breathed deep, holding himself still. “If you have a complaint, Gah…” His eyes locked to Gah. “Speak it.”

“Of course, _ mighty chieftain _ …” Gah, minutely dipped his head. 

Nostomo huffed. “Good. Tagaan.” The ram turned to his son. “The purpose of this meeting is grim. The hunters have captured a live human.” Mutters accompanied scuffing hooves. “We debate now what to do with it. Years before, we would simply ransom it, but in these times...” 

Toov flicked his ears, stomping his hoof lightly. “My opinion, shared by Bezinla and Toorian,” He inclined his head. “Is that we release the human. Allow word of mercy to spread. Build trust and...”

“Never!” Gah bayed, stomping his hoof firmly. “Humans do not understand mercy!” He steadied his breathing. “If we spare the human, it would spread knowledge of our home and numbers.” His hoof scraped the ground. “We cannot allow that risk.”

Bezinla bleated, stamping lightly. “But what would we do then, Gah?” She clasped her calloused hands before herself. “We cannot keep a prisoner forever.”

Gah flicked his ears back. “No.” The ram dipped his head, ears pulled back and low. “We cannot.”

Toorian stomped his hoof. The graying ram shook his powerful head. “Agreed. We must kill the human.”

Agitated bleats broke out. Anger rose, indignation glowing bright. Nostomo slammed his hoof, quieting the council. He flicked his ears. “Respect one another.” He scanned the room. “Even if you do not agree, he will be heard.” Tagaan lifted his ears, anxiety loosening. ‘ _ He sounds like his old self again, wise and commanding. _ ’ The younger ram huffed.  _ ‘Was worried for a moment _ .’

Toorian inclined his head and ears. “My thanks, chieftain.” He straightened his wiry frame. “We cannot keep it.” Toov flicked his ears back. Bezinla scraped her hoof. “Nor can we release it.” Gah snorted. Haacaan shook his head. “Then the answer is clear; we slay the human.”

Gah stomped his hoof. “No! We shall not slay an unarmed prisoner!” He shook his head, anger building. “Our honor demands we stay our hand!”

Tagaan stomped his hoof. His chest seized. ‘ _ I did that before I could think _ …’ He tucked his ears low. Tagaan shifted his weight. ‘ _ They are looking at me now…time to add my piece then _ .’ Clearing his throat, the young ram spoke. “I agree that we cannot kill the human.” Gah flicked his ears forward, vindication blaring in his eyes. “And the risk is to great to allow him freedom…” Nostomo bleat softly. “So...I propose…” His hands shook. His stomach clenched. ‘ _ It seems right… _ ’ Righting himself he continued. “We should grant the human a trail.”

Outrage erupted. Shouts and bellows swallowed the room. Nostomo leaned back in shock, ears pressed flat and back. Gah sputtered, dragging his hoof across the stone. Rika struck her walking staff firmly into the ground, garnering attention. Her ears perked high and back. She locked her icy gaze to Tagaan. “Those are a sacred rite Tagaan. I would think better of you.”

Gah flexed his mighty frame, pointing at Tagaan. “You,  _ whelp, _ speak blasphemy! I should…”

Nostomo roared, silencing the cave. His chest heaved. His eyes strained. “My son, I know you do not intend offense, but…” His head swiveled. “And you! You will not do anything to…”

Tagaan slammed his hoof, his own powerful chest fluttering. “No father!” Nostomo reared back. “I will speak for myself!” The young ram stilled his breath. “Venerable shaman Rika, I propose we submit the human to trial.” Fury burned from the shaman. “We cannot release it, and we cannot kill it. Do you not see this is a perfect solution?” He looked about, searching the hard and angry expressions of his kin. “If it wins, it has earned its freedom. If it dies, it dies in an honorable way.” Rika stilled her waving ears. “This may be sacrilege…” He steeled himself, breathing deep. “But it solves the situation, and absolves us of our fault.”

Gah snorted. Haacaan flicked his ears back. Bezinla remained silent. The tension suffused the room. Rika finally spoke, voice hoarse and weary. “I...I see your point Tagaan…” She flicked her ears back, eyes holding great sorrow. “Ancestors forgive me...but I see your point.” The old nag dipped her head. “It wounds me to say so, but I will allow it. The human may challenge the chieftain for its freedom.”

Nostomo closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. His ears flicked forward and he exhaled his tension. “I understand and hear you, venerable shaman. I shall accept if this human challenges me.”

Muttered and flickering ears roiled. Gah scraped his hoof. His voice turned dark, low and menacing. “Every bit the blasphemous bitch your mother is…”

Tagaan jerked his head up. The assemblage turned, ears stiffened in shock. Nostomo squared his massive shoulders. “What did you say, worm?” He bared his teeth, voice whispering through.

Gah snorted. “Only that your son engages in blasphemy, just like your mate.” Gah spat, teeth bared. “And what would you do about it, oh mighty Nostomo?” He squared his shoulders, bringing his powerful frame up. “I would enjoy being chieftain.”

Nostomo trembled, furious energy roiling off his tensed body. “You! You...I will…”

Tagaan stepped forward, right hoof planted firmly. “What did you say about my mother, bastard!?” Gah snorted. “Apologize immediately.” Menace radiated from his six foot frame. “Now!”

Gah stepped forward planting his own hoof aggressively. “I will not apologize for the truth, stunted whelp!” Nostomo scraped his hoof. “Your bitch of a mother polluted our councils for far too long!” He glared about. “Allowing your mate in the shrine of elders…unheard of!” The ram swung his head back and forth. Tagaan imitated the gesture, fury welling forth. Anger blurred his vision. “And now I hear more of that poisonous rambling from you! I had hope for the new chieftain, but now!?” Gah bleated, angry and loud. “I know she corrupted you into a soft wretch like Nostomo! Such a waste…”

Tagaan surged forth. He left hoof flew, hammering into the ground. His entire frame tensed, directed, and released. His proudly growing horns impacted Gahs, staggering the larger male. Bleating in pain, Gah lurched back. Splinters of horn tapped to the floor. Tagaan reared back, adrenaline suppressing the pain. “Gah! No more! I, Tagaan, challenge you to the Trail of Cooraan!” His voice cracked and his heart pounded. “For the honor of my mother, my father, and myself, I will slay you!”


	13. Chapter 13

Daavi struck Tagaan’s shoulder. The young ram winced, averting eye contact with his mother. Her ears pressed tightly back, she spoke low and quiet. “I am sorry. Explain to me again why you have invoked a trial?” Daavansa sat, anxious and intentionally distracted. Her nimble fingers fidgeted, stringing smoked meat overhead. Nostomo occupied their home's entrance, good arm wrapped securely about Haazixan who clung to his father's side.

Tagaan huffed, dipping his head and locking his gaze groundward. “I challenged Gah to protect your, father’s, and my honor.” He hunched his shoulders, ears pressed tight and low. “I spoke to defend you.”

Daavi punched Tagaan’s shoulder, knuckles clenched tight. “To defend me!?” She struck his shoulder again. “Are you certain?” Her ears flickered, and she leaned back. “It seems as if you invoked for your own sake! I surely gave no consent!” 

Daavansa flicked her ears forward. “Mother is correct Tagaan…” The small fireplace crackled. Wind blew gently outside. “We never asked you to do such. Never asked you to defend our honor…” Her voice tapered off, the oppressive air choking her confidence. 

Nostomo stood silent, bobbing Haazixan gently. Tagaan leaned forward, hunching tightly. His voice lowered, anxiety dragging and wearing it down. “I did, mother. He called you a ‘bitch’.” Haazixan mewled, nuzzling his father.

“And that is sufficient!?” Daavi’s voice rose. Ears flickered all about. Her family shuffled. The matriarchs wrath welled high, cowing the others near her. “That he labeled me as ‘bitch’!?” Daavi pressed her palms over her eyes. “That is not enough, Tagaan!” Haazixan mumbled mournful words, pushing his head deeper into his father's broad chest. Nostomo rumbled soft reassurances. “He could have said I eat filth! Rut with beasts! Am more vile than any living being ever birthed!” She gripped Tagaan’s left ear, tugging firmly. The younger ram bayed painfully. “Insufficient! Not enough! Nothing would ever be enough!” Tagaan mewled, tensing and stretching to reduce his pain. “Yesterday, Tagaan! I told you yesterday that my pride was not worth your pain!”

Tagaan leaned over, bowing his head deeply. “Mother, please! I only…” 

“No!” Daavi twisted his ear, pulling firmly. “You swore you me! You swore that you would heed your mother.” Daavansa mewled, voice quiet and pained. “You swore that to me!” Daavi released his ear, falling back on her haunches. “You swore to me Tagaan...in the cave of elders…” Her ears wilted, sorrow sapping her strength. “...you swore to me…” 

“Mother…” Tagaan reached his hand out. Daavi batted the appendage away. Her head ducked, avoiding eye contact. “Mother please!” Daavi flicked her ears. “Mother...I must do this. He…” Her eyes lanced him. Outrage pulled her ears back. “He spat on you! On father and me!” They rolled contemptuously. Tagaan unconsciously raised his voice. “I was to stand there and allow that!? Just let the filth spew about us?”

Daavi lifted her palms, holding them flat and even with her shoulders. “Yes, Tagaan! You should have remained silent and let the lowly fool say as he would!” She dropped her arms. The wind outside softened. Her family remained quiet, fidgeting and muttering their own uncomfortable conversations. A stray spark broke off their fire. “You should have kept your word, and let the fool speak…” Tagaan opened his mouth, mind scrambling for a suitable defense. Daavi raised her hand, pressed strong and firm towards her errant son. “No, Tagaan. You have said your piece, and can not withdraw from the trial regardless.” She dropped her hand, age and weariness visibly bearing down. “Prepare for your trial. Go.” Her finger jerked towards their home's entrance. “Go! Prepare well, and I will pray I still have a son at its conclusion.” 

Tagaan flexed his jaw. Open. Closed. Open. Closed.  _ ‘I...surely she understands...my honor...her honor… _ ’ Throat dry and hoarse, his voice cracked out. “Mother, please. I…” She turned her head, pointedly staring away. “Mother?...” Her head sat still. Seconds passed. Tagaan whimpered. Daavi’s ears twitched. ‘ _ No point I guess _ …’ Tagaan straightened his legs.  _ ‘She just won’t understand _ …’ He pushed, raising his suddenly heavy body. Venom pulsed throughout his mind. ‘ _ She’s just a woman, after all. Can’t understand honor. _ ’ Shame tugged his gut. ‘ _ Can’t. _ ’ The young ram turned, approaching his father.

Nostomo gripped Haazixan below his arm, gently dislodging the anxious lamb. He spoke soft and low, muttering comfort into his son's ear. Daavansa stood, grabbing her young brother. She pressed her forehead gently to his, humming a soft song. Nostomo stepped back, good arm opening their tents flap. He met his son's gaze, ears flicking forth. “Come. We spar before your trial. You must be at your peak.” 

Tagaan nodded, striding from the stifling hut. The pleasant midday sun shone down, warming the young rams blood. He stretched his neck, flexing his body. His father gripped his shoulder, squeezing gently before departing towards the warriors den. Tagaan stood still, watching his father's unbroken stride. His massive shaggy legs pumped with power, and his colossal chest expanded easily in the calm summer air. His waist cloth fluttered in the breeze, ornate and fine. The dead arm hung limp and useless, but his head stood straight and proud. ‘ _ A man Worthy of respect. _ ’ Tagaan jut his ears forward, sorrow breaking down. His heart soared.  _ ‘One who bears his burden and does his duty; unshrinking, unyielding, unbroken. As I shall, no matter the cost. _ ’ He spurred his own sturdy legs, following his father's path.

The duo stopped before the warriors den, pricking their forearms with a ritual needle and dabbing blood upon the small runic stone at its entrance. A firm gaze rested over them, comforting and demanding. Tagaan straightened his spine. The gaze lightened, accepting. He rolled his shoulders, waiting as the Patron Warrior measured his father. Nostomo flexed his brawn, head lowering slightly. A ghostly echo pulsed, welcoming the pair inside. Entering, they grabbed simple wooden poles from the racks near the entrance. Tagaan looked about.  _ ‘Two pits already occupied. _ ’ He looked over the remaking three. He flicked his ears forth.  _ ‘Ah, good. My favorite is open. _ ’ Looking back, he pointed to the fourth sparring pit. Nostomo nodded, a large wooden ax gripped in his good arm.

Tagaan jumped below, coarse sand spraying near his hooves. A massive impact jarred him, forcing his legs wider. He dashed forward, gripping the faux spear easily. His legs skid, spraying sand as he faced about. His eyes observed his opponent, watching for any weakness. ‘ _ He is larger than me, and far stronger. _ ’ The other male circled, great chipped hooves stepping lightly. His dead arm hung, and his left bore a large wooden hatchet. ‘ _ He is scarred heavily...undoubtedly an experienced warrior. And his eyes…’ _ The larger male moved deliberately, slow and steady.  _ ‘He is watching me as well. _ ’ Tagaan stilled his ears and tensed his frame.  _ ‘My plan then, is del _ …’ The other male surged forward, deceptively swift. He choked his ax high, striking the blade horizontally into Tagaans face. Instinct seized the younger male. His eyes locked to the wooden blade. His spear flew up, angled perfectly. The ax blade slowed, the males feint now obvious. Tagaan’s eyes registered movement, and the other male drove his titanic right hoof into his gut.

Tagaan hit the sand, coughing and wheezing. Fire lanced his chest, constricting breath and thought. Nostomo shook his head back and forth, pawing up sand. “Come Tagaan. I raised you . I taught you the blade.” His sire stepped back, allowing him to stand. “I know that mind of yours, and how to best it.” His ax blade pointed to his son's head. “I will show no mercy, for Gah will not. You must be better Tagaan.” He flicked his ears back. “You did not even enter a stance. Again.”

Tagaan lowered himself, tracking the other males movement.  _ ‘The same opponent. Scarred, knowledgeable.’ _ He snorted, clearing the debris blocking his nose. His hands gripped the haft of his weapon.  _ ‘Quiet the chatter _ …’ He inhaled deep, loosening his focus. His opponent bayed, charging forward and lowering his head. Tagaan bleat, shifting his haft. ‘ _ Aggressive male, charging to lock horns. Dodge and thrust!’ _ His mind blitzed while his body stilled. The massive male leaned forward and surged. Tagaan twisted, leaping to his right. A shadow caught him. The males arm seized him, arm locking around his torso. The larger male twisted, hurling Tagaan to the floor. His hoof scuffed Tagaan’s horns, tapping gently to signal a stomp.

Nostomo huffed, turning and stepping away. “Stand.” He rounded, facing Tagaan. “Again.” He gripped his ax blade, eyes blazing and relentless.

Tagaan lept, righting himself. He bared his teeth, locking eyes with his opponent. ‘S _ ame opponent, likes feinting. Ignore first and react to second… _ ’ His opponent charged, heaving his wooden ax down and towards Tagaan’s shoulder. Tagaan lifted his spear haft, watching for the feint. The ax blade hammered into the haft, slamming it to the floor. Agony sparked his fingers, and Tagaan yelped. The blade swung high and struck his horns. Piercing pain obscured his vision. A blurry form ducked, carrying the momentum of its strike into another. The wooden ax slammed Tagaan’s chest, knocking him back and prone. Muscle twitched. Breath heaved. Tagaan shrunk back, clawing the sand. He blinked swiftly, clearing his vision. 

Nostomo huffed, waving his head aggressively. “Stand, Tagaan.” He bit out, teeth bared. His sire stepped back, allowing five strides between them. “Think less. Act more.” The massive ram lowered his head and raised his ax. “There is no time to think in battle.” Tagaan, chest and head aching, rose. “And take up your stance. Again.”

He shook his head, willing the pain to cease. _ ‘Opponent… _ ’ Tagaan shuddered, huffing over his bruised chest. One eye closed with his wince.  _ ‘Opponent is strong…smart… _ ’ His foe approached, hooves marching a steady rhythm. Tagaan scrambled forward, wrenching the spear haft from the ground. A mighty push of his legs threw him back. Adrenaline fueled and desperate, Tagaan staggered upon the gritty sand. The other male surged forward, lashing with his wooden ax. A fresh pain ignited his arm. Tagaan raised the spear, hammering the tip against his foe’s left knee. The appendage remained steadfast, twitching but unbent. His agile hands sprung, wrenching the opposite end in a powerful slash. His opponent stepped back and his weapon passed a hands breadth before him. His right hoof rooted back. Tagaan’s eyes widened. His momentum struck his spear across his own knee. Tagaan bleat, leg losing strength. Nostomo pulled his arms back, and threw forth his mighty horns.

Reality shattered. Tagaan slumped to the floor, lights and mirages dominating all sight. He dimly noted the room’s rapid rotation, and screwed shut his eyes. Flickering stars still spun, writhing along the eddies of spectacular nothingness. Bile rose, falling through his agape mouth. Sharp ringing drifted into his consciousness. Harsh, agonizing splinters drove from his skull, burrowing through his neck and chest. His palms pressed against the solid floor. A weak heave pushed him upright. Sparkling lights vanished one by one. Nostomo stood several strides back, ears pressed back in worry. Tagaan found his voice. “Father...please...a moment…” Hammering aches surfaced, pounding away upon his skull.

Nostomo stepped forward, scuffing the sand. “No. No rest. No relenting.” He forced his ears high and forward, stiffness belying his aggression. “Do you think Gah will allow you rest?” Nostomo snorted and shook his head. “Well boy? Answer me!”

Tagaan bleat a hurt cry. “Father, I…”

“No!” His father surged forward, gripping Tagaan’s shoulders. “No, Tagaan! No excuse! No explanation.” He shook his son. Tagaan’s world rattled. “Answer me, Tagaan. Would Gah give you rest: yes, or no?” 

Nostomo’s eyes simmered with deadly vigor. Tagaan cleared his throat. ‘ _ That...that isn’t relevant _ …’ His ears flicked, and his jaw hinged open. ‘ _ This is a spar...to ready me _ …’ Tagaan lowered his head and dipped his ears. “No, father. He would not.”

Nostomo flicked his ears forth. “No. He is brash and bold.” Nostomo’s good hand clenched. His calloused flesh creaked. “He hates your mother, and the sway she once held.” Nostomo flexed his shoulders, exhaling some of his tension. “The Kaad would accept your death if it meant hurting her.”

Tagaan flinched under his father's vitriol.  _ ‘Haven’t heard him call someone such a vile name before… _ ’ He tucked his ears back and met his father's gaze. ‘ _ Ancestors below… he’s scared… _ ’ Tagaan gripped his father's hands. The pain slowly dimmed. His voice rose tentatively. “Father..it will be alright. I will defeat him.”

Nostomo hurled his hands off. “But what if you do not, Tagaan!? What then? If he strikes you down...if he breaks you…” He stepped back, ears dropping in fatigue and sorrow. “...if he kills you? Tagaan...I…” Nostomo fell, legs buckling. His arm caught himself, holding him half upright. Mewling whimpers choked his throat. “I almost lost one son Tagaan…” Tagaan bleat a soft reassurance. “And I was powerless to help him…”

Tagaan flicked his ears forth, remembering Haazixan’s birth seven years ago.

_ Tagaan sat near his sister, only recently a blooded woman of sixteen summers. Daavi’s bleats shook the hut. Premonition stirred. Rika knelt before her, a thick and wide cloth preserving her dignity, muttering gentle expletives. His small ten year frame squirmed, uneasy so close to his mother's pain and blood. Daavansa sat, worry and curiosity plain in her flicking ears. Nostomo stood opposite the siblings, ears tense and perked. Every muscle in his great frame tensed. Daavi bleat out, contractions pushing her child into the world. Nostomo sagged. Daavi fell back, listening for her new lambs cry. Rika swore, cracking a horrid curse. Nostomo righted himself, all seven feet of strength and muscle ready. Daavansa mewled softly. Tagaan bleat a worried cry. Daavi shot upright, bringing herself to sitting. Blood pooled under her, and her ears stiffened in pain and worry. Rika held a small unmoving lamb in her hands. A cord stretched from the child’s navel around his tiny neck and into his mother. Daavi bleat in horror. Nostomo howled in rage and fear. Rika snapped, informing the gathered family that their chattering was distracting. Her ears pulled up and forward, intense and focused. She shifted the unbreathing bundle. She snaked her right hand into her pouches, left deftly holding the lamb. An ornate clay jar whipped out, slapping firmly to the earth. His family quieted, terror wrenching their hearts. A blade flashed, severing the choking cord. Rika dropped her knife and expertly removed the lid, revealing a pungent salve of healing. Her main fingers dove in, grabbing a generous glob and immediately smearing it upon the still chest. Her fingers gently rubbed it in a small circle, and a tiny empheareal glimmer sprung out. Breath inhaled all around. The chest remained still. Rika bared her teeth. She slammed the lid back upon the jar and her hand snaked to her befeathered staff. She struck it on the ground, chanting words in the tongue of the shaman. Tagaan widened his eyes. True magic...right before him. Life giving energy spun around the skull atop her staff, vibrant and green. Rika lifted her snout, breathing the vapor in. She swiftly leaned down, exhaling it into the still lambs face. Nostomo shifted. His frame groaned under its strain. Daavansa mewled. Daavi stiffened her ears. The lamb did not move. Rika flicked her ears back. Abruptly she cast her staff aside and lifted her hand, biting deeply into her forearms flesh. Blood oozed. She extended the wound, dripping crimson fluid over the small body. A small pool gathered, and she pushed her fingers into it. Her pointer traced a rune. Tagaan’s eyes could not read the word, but his soul sensed the meaning: life. Her arm lifted before her. She closed her eyes and spoke, voice echoing with power. Several hairs throughout her body grayed visibly. Green energy gathered within her grasp, seemingly pulled from her own heart. The globe flashed, and she pressed it firmly into the still lamb. A small snap reverberated, and the lamb drew in breath, immediately wailing fiercely for his mother. The tension popped. Nostomo gripped his heart, breathing rapidly. Daavi scooped up her child, bringing the hungry babe to her bosom. Daavansa mewled joyfully. Tagaan bleat, intense relief unshackling him. _

Tagaan whimpered. He took a tentative step, head bowed low and ears nervous. “Father...father Haazixan’s birth was not your fault…”

Nostomo huffed. “I know that, boy.” The mighty ram leaned back, resting his frame on the sand. “But what did I do to help? Hmm?” A dull thump accompanied his flop back. “What did I do, Tagaan? I stood there, posturing and roaring.” His body sagged, resting into the coarse sand.  _ ‘He seems so small, laying there _ …’ Nostomo’s voice cracked. “Stood there...useless and annoying…” His head fell aside, staring unseeing at the wall. “I was so scared, Tagaan...so afraid that my lamb would die…” His ears lost the last of their strength, falling limp. “...that my beautiful child would die and I could do nothing to stop it. Nothing to help...nothing…” 

Tagaan melwed, heart aching for the wounded man before him.  _ ‘A warrior with equal...a hunter beyond compare...to feel useless? Weak?...how? _ ’ He stepped forward, hesitation fleeing before his need to aid. “Father...father everything turned out for the better.” His mind raced. ‘ _ Haazixan is strong and wise, good and honest. The hardship strengthened us, and improved your respect for the shaman.’ _ Tagaan flicked his ears, kneeling beside his father. “Haazi is a fine brother, and you still teach him well. He grows strong and wise, just like you!”

Nostomo blinked, languid and slow. “Strong, yes. Wise?” His ears flicked back. “What wisdom did I show then, Tagaan?” He palmed his bleary eyes. “What wisdom does raging hold? Tell me, Tagaan; what wisdom does it hold?” Silence permeated the room. Tagaan bit back his words, breathing deep and steady. “What, no answer? Hmmph.”

Tagaan brushed Nostomo’s body horn. His father remained still. ‘ _ Your past does not imprison you…’ _ His legs pushed up. “No...in that moment you showed only little wisdom, but in this day you show it again and again.” He offered his hand, reaching hopefully. “You listen to council, you heed your tribe, and you have raised fine children. What greater test could there be?”

Nostomo dropped his hand. His eyes locked to Tagaan’s hand for a moment. “...Thank you, balam. I...do not know if I believe you, but thank you.” He clasped Tagaan’s palm. He rose, tugging gently while righting himself. “...my wisdom…” His ears flicked. “Perhaps some of your mother has rubbed into me, perhaps not. You did not know me when I was youngling, my son.” The great chieftain rolled his shoulders. “I have changed...grown into what I am.” He refocused his eyes, seemingly returning to the present. “And I am a father. Your father. I was helpless to aid the birth of Haazixan, but I am not helpless here. I can push you harder. I can train you fiercer. I can impart my knowledge of the warrior’s art.” He flexed his great hand, throttling the air. “My son is threatened, and I will do anything…” His eyes flashed. Dangerous. Piercing. Uncompromising. “...Anything. To save him.”


	14. Chapter 14

Tagaan strode forth, cresting the mountain hillock. Towering pine and dense thickets sprung, reaching to the skies from the rocky soil. Several kinsmen marched along, willing or eager to witness the day's trials. Daavi walked behind him several paces, holding Haazixan in a firm grasp. Her head stared forward, rigidly locked and dignified. Daavansa remained at their home, tending to their meals for the evening. An ember of spite flared. ‘ _ I am glad at least one of my kin is assured of my victory. _ ’ His father led the procession, flanked by Rika and her apprentice. Tagaan’s eyes drifted, running along Teveeni’s matured body. He blinked, shaking his head and ears.  _ ‘Not respectful to ogle. _ ’ He glanced again, gaze resting on her elegant horns. ‘ _ Can hardly blame myself though… _ ’ A great wooden ring rose from the woods. _ ‘Dressing in such fine garments...keeping herself healthy and strong...having horns so long and sharp _ …’ His blood heated, and he looked upon the great ring. The carved stone of the Ring of Trials sunk deep, ringed above by wooden stands and an elevated platform. Along the bottom of the ten stride deep pit jut spikes and prods of sharpened wood. The entrance, directly opposite the shamans platform, stood tall and menacing. Ghastly runes of condemnation and proud runes of honor held the simple wooden gate more firm than any human steel while the trial lasted. ‘ _ Right. I will win this because I fight for my kin. Gah will fail because he fights for himself. And Teveeni would not mind my staring because she is obviously asking for attention. Right. _ ’ Tenuous explanations cited and firm, Tagaan exhaled, taking his place among the throng of kin. 

Rika ascended the platform. Nostomo stopped nearby Daavi, speaking softly to his mate. All stood upon level ground, under the shaman, and awaited her words. Further back the trail, Toorian escorted a human. His eyes held danger, and his ears promised retribution to any who would harm his charge. Tagaan’s ears flicked forward and down in sympathy.  _ ‘I would not wish to be charged with a human's safety...I do not know that I could protect them from myself, honor or no. _ ’ The pair halted before the descending path to the gateway. Rika stamped her hoof, gray fur trembling under her force. The elder matron spoke, clear and regal. “Kin gather here today to oversee the Trial of Coorran, invoked by Simon against the Sun clan, and the Trial of Cooran, invoked by Tagaan against Gah.” Her authoritative voice carried far, ritual phrases well practiced and precise. “A trial invoked against a clan shall be championed by its chieftain.” She paused, gesturing to Nostomo. “Nostomo, chieftain of the Sun Clan, will you champion our people?”

His father stomped his right hoof, hammering the wooden floor. “Upon my honor, I shall uphold our people’s.” 

Rika flicked her ears forward. Her head turned to the human. “Simon, your opponent has accepted your challenge. Step forth, and receive your fragment.” She gestured to Toorian, who firmly planted a necklace into Simon's hand. Her ears flicked. “Nostomo, step forth and receive your fragment.” His father parted from the crowd, striding to the shamans platform. Rika withdrew a necklace, identical and complimentary to the one bestowed to Simon, and tied it over his neck. Nostomo stepped back, and rolled his head. His warrior braids, elegant and freshly woven, bobbed. He reached behind him, withdrawing the loosely bound greataxe upon his back. Manbane, the ax of the Sun Clan chieftain, dipped low. Heavy, even for Nostomo, the edge touched the wooden floor. “Simon, take your weapon and enter the Ring of Trials.” She deliberately nodded her head low. The human fidgeted, face contorting oddly, and took a spear from Toorian’s outstretched hand. His ears did not move, almost as if they were not meant to. Simon stepped forward, hesitantly gripping the gate. A puff of cloudy vapor pooled out, and he yelped. A drop of crimson fell from his hand, and the gate opened.

The human made more odd facial expressions, ears suspiciously still. He breathed in and out, exhaling slowly, before entering the arena. The human looked about and walked the thirty strides to the arena's opposite end. Nostomo walked around the anxious crowd, rounding the circle to face the gate. He set his ax upon the ground, and withdrew a simple cutting knife. A flash of steel, and his blood pattered from wrist to the gates base. Each drop sprung puffs of cloudy vapor, sealing the ring and attuning the gate to their amulets. “Nostomo, take your weapon and enter the Ring of Trials.” The ax surged back into the mighty chieftains grip, and he strode through the gate. The gate snapped shut, locked firm by the Khazra’s magic. Nostomo walked forward several strides, and hunched low and ready. Manbane’s crescent head erupted, crimson light spraying. The carved runes of death and vengeance seethed, and the light dimmed to an eerie glow. The haft, carved of fine oak and shorter than Nostomo by a head, glimmered with red runes of purpose, honor, and courage. Nostomo pawed the stone floor, hoof scratching the gravely, stained surface.

The human whimpered, body trembling. His light frame stood a mere five and a half feet tall, and his dark grey hair grew short over his head and chin. The human breathed deep. His breath stilled, and he lowered his head. Abruptly he raised his head and barked human words, desperately meeting Rika’s eyes. The shaman flicked her ears, curious and hesitant. Several moments passed. She nodded deliberately, hesitantly barking a human word. Her hoof stamped, and she lifted her head. “Simon, the invoker, has asked a question and received an answer. In the purpose of fairness, I shall relay it to the champion.” She flicked her ears, inclining her head. “Simon asked, roughly, ‘I am to use any means to take his amulet?’ And I responded in accord.” Quiet brays and murmurs sounded, quickly hushed.

Nostomo flicked his ears forth, briefly acknowledging the shaman. He shifted back, body relaxed and coiled to strike. Tagaan recognized the old warriors stance his father took.  _ ‘Stalking Bear, I think… _ ’ His father’s legs stood firm and ready, weight centered and back. His torso slanted an angle to the human, ready to pivot. His hand choked Manbane, gaining control over the long weapon, and stuck low and out. Where would normally be a second weapon or prepared item, his dead arm hung limp. 

The human looked about, barking another strange sound. Rika flicked her ears back. Human words hacked from her mouth, uneven and odd. Rika’s ears dropped back and high. “Simon, the invoker...has asked another...another question.” Her stammer recovered, ceremony overtaking her hesitance. “And received an answer. In the purpose of fairness, I shall relay it to the champion.” Her ears flicked from their baffled position. “Simon asked, roughly, ‘when do we start?’ And I answered that the trial began the moment the gate closed.” Silence filled the arena. Several short brays of laughter sounded. Most flicked their ears hesitantly.

Nostomo flicked his ears forward, stance unmoving. His body stood ready, and his eyes traced the man’s every movement. Simon gripped the spear, levering it horizontal. His hands stretched out.  _ ‘Such an odd stance...surely he sees how he exposes himself?’ _ Tagaan flicked his ears, questioning. The gesture echoed in the ears of many warriors, veterans and hunters. Simon closed his eyes, fluid dripping down his face. Nostomo’s stance held firm. Simon dropped the spear. A quiet clang echoed throughout the mountains. Every breath fell still. Tagaan’s kin stood. Stunned. Aghast. Bewildered.  _ ‘He…does he have a death wish!? Who would face  _ Manbane _ ,  _ or my father _ with no weapon?’ _

Nostomo’s ears tucked back and down. Sudden unease weakened his stance. Simon held his palms up, faced them forward, and slowly approached Nostomo. The mighty chieftain froze, completely still. Simon walked within striking distance of Nostomo.  _ ‘Is...is he admitting his wrong and offering his life? Will my father accept such a thing?... _ ’ Simon knelt before Nostomo, dropping one hand and his head. The other pushed high and up. He released a quiet bark, incoherent but clear. ‘ _ Please _ .’ 

The crowd stilled. Birdsong flew high above. The wind of the peaks, quiet and unnoticed before, seemed to roar. Several seconds passed. Nostomo held his stance. Simon repeated his sound and plea. Tagaan expelled his breath, chest tight and constricting. Several whispered bleats escaped his kinsmen. Disbelief. Question. Worry. Toov, standing near him spoke of treachery. “The human coward...he obviously hides a knife! He will...he will surely fail though.” He flicked his ears forth, reassuring himself. “The mighty Nostomo...the mighty Nostomo would never fall for such a ploy.” Tagaan unconsciously flicked his ears forth. _ ‘Surely. The serpent will find a sharp surprise when he attempts his ploy. _ ’ Bloodthirsty, grim eagerness filled him.  _ ‘He has not seen my father’s speed. He could outmatch any  _ snake _. _ ’

Simon echoed his plea, hooting barks wavering and quiet. The kinsmen fell silent. A third request.  _ ‘It is surely no trick to approach now…he must give his refusal to this preposterous question and resume the trial. _ ’ Nostomo lowered from his stance, standing easily and wary. He lifted Manbane horizontally. ‘ _ What is he doing?...’ _ His arm extended. His shoulder flexed. Manbane dropped at his side, hitting the stone with a reverberant clang. Red light dimmed and died. Clansmen muttered in disbelief. The human raised his head. Nostomo’s ears fell serene. His mighty palm gripped his amulet piece, and tore the leather strap from his neck. The chieftain scrutinized the human. His ears flicked forth, and he pressed the fragment into Simon's palm. Silence fell. Simon slowly raised himself, face contorting and some odd fluid leaking from his eyes. He spoke more barking words and slowly stepped around the immobile chieftain. He backed to the gate, and gripped it. Another puff of cloudy vapor. Another human yelp. Simon swung the gate open, and placed both amulet fragments on the ground. He abruptly stood, hooting and striding into distance. Every three strides he glanced back, before sprinting atop a hillock and beyond.

Discord erupted. Cacophonous noise grew, rising beyond the mountain tops. Bellows and screeches of treachery. Weakness. Senility. Cowardice. Rika struck her staff. The clamor rose.  _ ‘He...he just...to a human...he… _ ’ Tagaan’s thoughts stuttered. Blue, ethereal magic gathered, and surged through Rika’s staff. The earth quaked, shaking the assembled crowd to silence. All eyes turned to the venerable shaman. Risk stamped her hoof, polite and quiet. “Simon has won the Trial of Coorran, taking victory over the sun clan.” Her voice flew with the breeze, quiet and uncompromising. “He is free to return to his homeland.” The crowd surged, yelling, clamoring, and braying to the shaman. Rika flicked her ears back and low, annoyance echoing loud.  _ ‘I must agree… _ ’ Tagaan held his voice. ‘ _ How...how  _ could _ he? _ ’ Ethereal blue gathered, and hammered through her staff again. The ground shook, firm and aggressive. Several braying kinsmen toppled. Silence roared. Rika flicked her ears firmly. Annoyed. Angry. “I was not done speaking. Head your shaman, dissonant children.” She clipped. “Simon achieved victory. He is free to go. Any questions.” She slammed her staff to the floor. “Any comments. Any anger.” Her eyes tracked over the assembled clan. “Shall be restrained until the morrow. All conflict this day occurs only in the Ring of Trials.” She stamped her hoof, firm and calm. “Your shaman has spoken.” 

Tagaan blanched, left arm steadying his mother.  _ ‘But...but they are right _ …’ Haazixan mewled, ears fluttering and anxious. “Are they mad at father?” His voice shook. Numerous small and personal conversations sprung.

Daavi nickered. “Of course they are balam.” She cuddled her lamb, anxious but steady. “He just angered...well, everyone really.”

Rika spoke again, clattering her staff gently on the ground. “We shall now oversee the Trial of Coorran, invoked by Tagaan against Gah.” She gestured. “Nostomo, in defeat your duty is fulfilled. You may reclaim your weapon and exit the Ring.” Nostomo flicked his ears forth, easy and calm. He hunched over, gripping the massive and ax and hefting it. The runes murmured, quiet flashes of resentful crimson. Nostomo walked through the crowd. Whispered threats and condemnations washed over the mighty chieftain. His ears and eyes remained calm. Dignified. ‘ _ He is...at peace with his decision… _ ’ Tagaan bleat, saluting his approaching father with a clenched fist. Nostomo halted mid stride.  _ ‘I do not agree, but I respect him, and shall wait until I hear his reasons to lay judgement. _ ’ His father's ears lifted, strength and purpose returning to the elder ram. Daavi met his approach, pressing her forehead gently to her mate and muttering encouragement. Rika clapped her staff to the floor. Tagaan and his kin returned their attention. A swift runner ‘ _ Jooaal, I think _ …’ deposited the necklaces within Rika’s palm. “Tagaan, you may approach and receive your fragment.”

_ ‘This is it… _ ’ His hooves struck a steady rhythm.  _ ‘I now defend my family's honor, and my own _ .’ Mutters of encouragement followed him.

“At least  _ this _ is not blasphemy.” Toov spoke, low and approving. Anger wafted through Tagaan’s core. ‘ _ He had no choice _ …’

Tagaan ascended the shaman's pedestal. Rika flicked her ears, and motioned for him to kneel. The old nag gently tied the amulet borne by Simon around his neck. Tagaan rose and spurred into motion, hunting spear jostling against his back. ‘I _ shall not fail...I shall honor my kin...I shall not fail…’ _

Rika called out, regal and commanding. “Gah, you may approach and receive your fragment.” The ram stood, striding forth and shaking his head. He knelt before Rika, and the necklace tied around his neck.

Tagaan’s mantra carried him before the imposing wooden gate. Simple crosshatches formed the frame, every junction large and enruned. His cutting knife flew into his hand, elegant and deadly. He sliced a neat cut upon his arm, and allowed his blood to spill. Cloudy vapor rose, stinking of iron and soil. Ephemeral weights settled about him, binding his soul to the ring. “Tagaan, you may take your weapon and enter the Ring.” His spear whipped off his back, and swung open the gate. His hooves strode through the gate, and he looked up and about. Grisly spikes jut, soaked through with the blood of warring kin. Above, the crowd muttered and judged. Baying. Pawing. Flickering. Tagaan’s pulse grew heavier. His steps faltered in the center of the ring. The sky crushed down upon him. All about, the walls pushed close. Tagaan lost control of his breathing. _ ‘I...I am about to fight for my life… _ ’ His ears pulled back and low, terror clawing his soul apart.  _ ‘Ancestors preserve me, I’m going to fight. Not some human. Not some beast. Gah. Kin.’ _ His heart hammered. His mouth opened, expelling heat. Rika spoke. Hissing puffs sounded near the gate. Tagaan spun. Gah threw open the gate, gripping twin axes. His legs set forward, and immediately surged forth.

Tagaan strepped back, limbs assuming his favored and only known warrior’s stance. His spear pointed high, held inclined, near, and aside himself. His left hand swept low, gripping near the base. His right gripped the center.  _ ‘Power, and speed. _ ’ He crouched low, center of balance held steady and forward. ‘ _ Aggressive, and ready to strike. _ ’ He twisted his torso, pivoting to align his side with his opponent's charge. ‘ _ Adaptable, and elusive. _ ’ His head lifted back, tracking his opponent. ‘ _ Vigilant and aware. The Swooping Hawk. Stance of the nimble warrior. _ ’ 

Gah swept forward, swinging both blades overhead. Tagaan pushed his legs, jumping back. His stance landed easily, and Gah stumbled. The older ram huffed, ears flicking angrily. Calm effused Tagaan.  _ ‘Good he is reckless, and angry.’ _ Gah righted himself, prowling along Tagaan’s left.  _ ‘He looks for an opening, seeking to end this quickly. The Sparrow’s Strike then. _ ’ He stepped his right hoof forward and away, exposing his back. Gah spurred forward. Tagaan spun upon his hoof, right hand meeting his left near his spears base. His body inclined, swinging his pole with the full might of his turn. Gah’s ax blades swung low and right. Tagaan’s left hoof met the stone. Power released. Wood met flesh. Polished metal sliced. The axes of his foe flew up, deadly advance halted. His opponent stumbled back, one hand dropping its ax and clutching his side. A thin line of crimson trickled between his fingers. Tagaan resumed his stance.

Gah bared his teeth, ears pressed flat and firm with rage. He swiftly scooped up his ax. Tagaan lunged, left hand swinging wide. Gah fell to his side, avoiding the powerful thrust. Tagaan landed, stepping far closer to his foe than he intended. A powerful limb lashed out, slamming Tagaan’s leg. A bay of pain wrenched from his throat, and he lost his stance. Tagaan’s right hoof slipped, loose gravel spraying. His left lost balance. The world spun, and a sharp pain hammered his back. His spear toppled away from his sight. Tagaan bayyed, pained and frightened.  _ ‘On my back...not good! Not good!’ _ His hooves flailed. His hands clutched desperately at the ground, pulling himself to his belly. He brought his legs beneath and sprung, leaping far and away. A bright flash glint in the sun. A sharp pain tore through his right calf. Tagaan hit the stone and rolled with his momentum, falling into a crouch.

Gah roared, and struggled back to his hooves. Tagaan wildly cast his vision.  _ ‘There!’  _ He locked his eyes to his spear, away and to the right of both combatants. His instinct sprung, hurling him through another leap. Gah sputtered and charged, huffing the fury building within. Tagaan hit his shoulder, hands clasping his spear, and rolled. Numerous cuts and scratches tore his flesh, gravel winding beneath his fur and digging deep. Tagaan righted himself, vision swimming and spear in hand. Gah blitzed towards him, axes surging from either side. Tagaan’s body reacted, assuming the Swooping Hawk. He lunged again, leaping away. His body angled, and his spear flashed a small cut on Gah’s torso. 

Tagaan rolled upon the floor, swiftly righting himself. Gah stumbled forward, blades sundering the air. The fresh cut upon his chest spurt blood, leaking the crimson fluid down his fur. Tagaan’s stance resumed itself, and he panted out his exertions.  _ ‘I pulled off the Pigeon's Peck, I think...Excellent.’ _ His right calf tingled, and he spared it a glance. A shallow cut soaked his calf and hoof, loosening his footing and vitality. He dipped down, pressing the matted fur deep. Coagulation slowly bound his wound.

Gah bellowed, mighty arms pumping. Tagaan righted himself. Gah surged, leaping and swinging his axes wide. Tagaan leaned back, left leg planting firmly behind himself. His spears butt lanced forward. Gah twisted. His spear caught Gah, tearing a ragged gash along his abdomen. An ax swung wild, cleaving through the air and embedding in Tagaan’s left arm. Both males grunted in pain. Both scrambled back, clutching their respective wounds. Tagaan wrenched the ax free, swiftly dropping it and matting down his fur. Sparkling dots, drifting and carefree, marred his vision. He right hand wiped his face, and he panted hard.

Gah gripped his torso, right hand pressed firmly over the gash. Blood seeped through his fingers. The elder male pawed the earth. His curled horns swayed. His chest heaved. Ragged breath rent his throat, tearing in and out. He called out, harsh and angry. “Just surrender Tagaan!” Pebbles sprayed. “Be a good little coward, just like your cowardly sire!”

Furious hot blood boiled through Tagaan’s limbs. ‘ _ The wretch...the wretch! _ ’ He gnashed his teeth.  _ ‘He is goading me _ .’ He inhaled deep, attempting to rest control of his breathing. ‘ _ He’s hoping I’ll get mad, and attempt the Eagles Talon again. Make a mistake.’ _ His breath drew longer, steadier and stronger. ‘I _ ’ll not do it again...the Eagles Talon is to finish a fight, not to cause a wound. That was a mistake...I’ll not make another. _ ’ Gah snarled, pawing the ground firmly. He snorted, shaking his mighty horns back and forth.  _ ‘He is rousing his fury. Or attempting to cow me. He will charge. _ ’ Tagaan shifted. His stance righted. ‘ _ I will perform another Pigeon’s Peck then. And follow with the Crow’s… _ ’ 

Gah roared, bloodlust echoing through the mountain tops. Birds scattered. The wind shrunk back. Gah’s hooves sprung forth. Gravel rocketed away. Tagaan leapt, twineing his body and raking his spear along the charging rams leg. Crimson splashed. Their momentum carried them forward. Gah stumbled, knees hitting the ground. Tagaan rolled, shifting his momentum. His hooves sprang, stance resuming and spear flashing. The spear swung high and left. Red flew. Tagaan pivoted, gripping the spear with his left and hurling a firm thrust. Blood splashed.

Tagaan halted, breath ragged and torn. His spear jostled, lodged firmly in Gah back. A laceration, stretching from hip to shoulder, spewed. The elder ram wheezed and huffed.  _ ‘Did I...did I strike his lung? _ ’ Tagaan stumbled back, regret suffocating his chest. ‘ _ I...I do not mean to kill him! _ ’ Tagaan swiftly reached around, yanking the medallion from Gah’s neck. One arm feebly grasped his hand. Tagaan spun, sprinting to the entrance. He placed his hand upon the wood, and jagged spikes pierced him. The magic released. The Trial concluded. He spun, sprinting back to the incoherent kinsmen. “Rika!” He bellowed, authoritative and firm. “A healing salve!” The shaman easily complied, withdrawing and tossing and jar. Her ears flicked, confused and alert. “Don’t stand there! Come and tend this warriors' wounds!” He dropped his focus, ripping open the jar and scooping forth the pungent green paste. The crowd rose in volume. His fingers tickled, and swiftly mashed the salve into Gah’s leaking back. Sparkling green wisps wafted away. Crackles healed muscle and sealed flesh. Gah huffed, breath surging and heaving.  _ ‘Good. He breathes again.’ _

A hand gripped Tagaan’s shoulder and pushed him aside. Rika muttered under her breath, denouncing chieftains, males, and commands. She channeled a burst of magic, mending the worst of Gah’s wounds. The male turned, eyes unbelieving. His ears flicked. Slowly, Gah found his voice. “You...why?” Rika withdrew a needle and thread. Her hands deftly wound his wounds together. “You...you had no reason to help me.”

Tagaan gripped his kinsman’s shoulder. The crowd roared around them, approving and raucous. Tagaan ignored the rising sound, focusing on the ram before him. His ears flicked forth, firm and assured. “You are wrong. I do have reason to aid you.” His hand squeezed. “You are kin. I shall never abandon kin.”

Gah fell silent. Rika flicked her ears forth. “...maybe your sire did teach you well…” Heavy footfalls clamped behind him, and Nostomo gripped his son's head. He roughly bumped foreheads, ears tense and drained from worry. Tagaan exhaled. His adrenaline subsided. He returned his father's embrace, and raised his ears. Relief. Exhaustion. Joy. The crowd about lowered their volume, speaking softly amongst themselves. Nostomo released his son, gazing proud and honest at him. 

Rika spoke, hands still stitching Gah’s wounds. “Tagaan, you have taken victory from Gah.” The ram beneath her flicked his ears forth. “You may take your weapon and leave the circle.” She stood, wiping blood along her waist wrappings. “Gah, in defeat your duty is complete. You may take your weapon and leave the circle.” She turned, addressing the crowd. “These trials are completed, and those who have witnessed are thanked. All may return to their homes.” She stepped by, flicking her ears approvingly at Tagaan. Her voice lowered. “You did well Tagaan. Many would not forgive him.”

Tagaan flicked his ears forth, praise and victory flushing his head. “I did not, but I will not kill kin over words.” He clenched his right hand before him, left still gripping Nostomo’s shoulder. “But, I have taken payment for the insult in blood. We can have peace, if he would allow it.”

Nostomo flicked his ears forth. He spoke, guiding his son out of the arena. “Well spoken, my son. He was not forgiven.” His father squeezed his arm. “He has paid for his crime, and no longer needs punishment.”

Tagaan lifted himself, the weakness of the battle forgotten after his father's praise. “I am proud you think so, honored chieftain.”

Nostomo shoved him gently, knocking his son off balance. “Don’t start speaking like that...I am your father first.” Their steps led away, tromping lightly through the woodlands. Tagaan looked back. Daavi stood where she was, holding Haazixan and speaking to Saala. ‘ _ One of her old friends, I think… _ ’

Tagaan slowed, glancing about. The pain of his wounds began mounting. “Then...do you mind if I ask you a question, as your son?” Nostomo stilled, turning about. His ears flicked forth. “...why did you surrender to the human?”

Nostomo rolled his shoulders, head tilting back. “It might have looked that way, but…” His eyes lost focus, gazing into the trees above. “I did not surrender. I lost.”

Tagaan huffed, pain amplifying confusion. “How? It looked like surrender, father.”

Nostomo flicked his ears. “I know. But it was not. To explain, let me ask you: why did he challenge us?”

Tagaan shifted, eyes turning to the tree line. “For his survival. To do otherwise was death.” 

Nostomo returned his gaze, hand gripping Tagaan’s shoulder. “No, on what grounds did he challenge the clan?”

Tagaan melwed, brain and body hurting. “To...to gain his freedom. To escape.”

“No. Again you say  _ why _ , not  _ how _ .” Nostomo huffed, squeezing gently. “He challenged the clan on the belief that we were wrong to imprison him.” Nostomo resumed his walk, Tagaan following behind. “That he meant us no harm. That he should be allowed to go.” Nostomo flicked his ears contentedly. “What better way to prove that, then by peacefully asking when he held a weapon and could demand?” Crickets and song bugs began their nightly chorus, sun settling low and high over the mountain peaks. “Do you not see? He won, Tagaan. He proved his claim. I did not nor will I ever surrender to a human.” The cool breeze tickled their manes. “I did not give up, I acknowledged his victory. Do you understand?”

Tagaan flicked his ears in assent, pace slowing. “I think…I think I do, father.” He lifted his head to the setting sun. “And I think you are right.”


	15. Chapter 15

Robert turned a street corner. Rotting sewage and discarded foodstuffs reaked their vile vapors. The canals of the city churned, rancid muck roiling. Moonlight shone, bright and clear, lighting the well kept houses and buildings of the city. He adjusted his simple tunic, oversized and comfortable. The muck clung to his breeches, weighing his stout and powerful legs down. Running a hand through his short, scraggly, brown hair, he entered the shadowy alley before him.

Dim light illuminated several old boxes. Splinters jut sharply, wooden frames broken and useless. Discarded trash, forgotten and lost. Robert scrunched his nose. ‘ _ No one here. Right. Next one then. _ ’ His feet backpedaled. His steps continued, purposeful and swift. Light flared, shining from window front and loose wood. Robert glanced aside. The inn rumbled, laughter and raucous chatter shuddering the walls. ‘ _ Ah...the things we fight for.’ _ Rolling his shoulders, he peaked down the next alley. Three men, gaunt and haggard, lurked in the shadow. The scent of strong spirit and urine assailed him. A savage grin tugged his rough features. ‘ _ Perfect. _ ’

Robert pulled back, shifting his footing and lowering his head. ‘ _ Slouch like a weakling...stagger like a drunk...if they’re evil they won’t be  _ able _ to resist!’  _ The young crusader stumbled into the alley, exaggerated and comical. Quiet conversation brushed by his ears. Mirthful jests, insulting and brash, flew between the men. His grin, turned to the ground and hidden, split wider.  _ ‘A savage lot. Would certainly rob a defenseless drunk. _ ’ He readied his mind and body.  _ ‘Unfortunately, I’m not one. _ ’ His feet staggered along, moving before them. 

The conversation slowed, and halted. Robert smacked his shoulder against the wall of the tavern, back exposed and groaning softly.  _ Foes behind. Surge forward, twist and assess _ . His breathing quickened. Sweat beaded his palms and forehead. His legs tensed, ready and eager. The tallest man spoke up. “Oi! You alright there mate?” A hand hesitantly gripped his shoulder. “Ya look a bit under the weather.”

Robert stiffened.  _ ‘Huh. Guess they might be good folk? _ ’ Wariness holding him firm, he slurred out several words. “I’s okay, thankssh...” 

The hand squeezed. “Right. Well...you watch your footin’, eh?” The hand removed itself. “Lotsa broke bottles ‘in puddles tah slip on.”

Robert relaxed his powerful frame. “Oh…roight...roight…” He continued staggering down the alleyway, mind churning. ‘ _ Thought for sure that lot would mug me. Still, maybe they can help _ …’ His shoulder smacked the building. “Oi...I’m bit new round…’ere.” He rubbed his brows, already weary of the charade. “Wheresabouts should a fella avoid?”

Another voice piped up. “Don’t go to the port inns. Sailor folk don’t take well to others if’n ya don’t know how teh speak to ‘em.”

The other man grunted in assent. “Aye. Or Skid Row. Three blocks south. Folk there come off wagons, and love stirrin’ up troubles.”

Robert stumbled off, feet picking up speed. “Thankssh friendsh…” His mutter fell behind him, and he turned the corner. Righting himself, he strode south.  _ ‘Rowdy vagrants, huh?’ _ Something twinged the back of his mind.  _ ‘People comin’ offa wagons and stirrin’ up trouble?’ _ His trail wound the moonlit town, eyes glancing down every alley.  _ ‘Well...I’m not stirrin’ up trouble. No ma’am. I’m _ fixin’ _ it. _ ’ He stopped before the same inn his mother rented a room in. _ ‘Skid row’s where mother’s staying? See! Right there. Gotta keep my mother safe, is all _ .’ 

Peeking around the corner, Robert grinned. Two men stood, arms folded and muttering softly to each other. Large cloaks enfolded them, and his well trained eyes spotted the glint of steel beneath. ‘T _ hey’re big fellas. Prolly got some trainin’...proper arms if they’re mercs _ .’ He rolled his shoulders, excitement bubbling up.  _ ‘I can do this. I’ve a knife, and the Light. _ ’ He began staggering down the alleyway, feigning a drunken stupor. _ ‘Prolly got swords or axes, so get in nice ‘en close.’  _ The two halted their conversation, scarred faces watching him go by. Robert stopped in front of them, leaning against the wall. His adrenaline built. ‘ _ Use punishment, shouldn’t be too hard, and the blinding glare if needed.’ _ The nearer man pushed off the wall.  _ ‘Steady...steady… _ ’

The man’s voice growled, low and angry. “Shove off, bum.” His hand gripped Robert’s shoulder, squeezing firmly. “This alley is off limits to your kind.” His hand shoved, pushing Robert to the floor.

The wind rushed before him, and Robert instinctively drew a finger over his coin pouch.  _ ‘Missing, perfect.’ _ His body twisted, contorting to roll along the shoves force. His feet caught firm ground, his dagger flashed from beneath his tunic. The men’s eyes opened wide, the one shoving him quickly stowing away Robert’s coin pouch. _ ‘Perfect…’ _ He nearly cooed. 

Roberts' feet and adrenaline surged.  _ Slash low left, and stab high right _ . The man stumbled back, hand swiftly drawing a short sword. _ Channel the light of punishment. _ His arms burned, lighting with righteous power. His right bicep twinged, lava burning away beneath the skin. Steel glint under the waning moons. Crimson spurt. Robert's knife slashed the man, a nasty gash forming over his thighs. The old wound in his side twinged, and he grit his teeth. Robert’s momentum carried through, skewering the man’s shoulder with steel and golden flame.

The other man swore, tearing out an oath and his heavy mace. His arms blurred, swinging the hefty iron to crush Robert’s face.  _ Duck back. Root balance, parry blow. _ Robert leaned back, and tugged his knife. The blade remained lodged. His left arm surged before his face, shielding it. A hearty crack split open his forearm, brushing past and tapping over his chin. Blood sprayed. Robert lurched back, hissing over the pain. 

The man gripped his wounded ally, throwing the man behind himself. His eyes flashed menace, green and hard as agate. “You’re going to wish you just stepped off, lad.” The man spoke, eloquent and clear. Robert pulled his body up, assuming a simple stance. A snarl tore across the man’s noble features. “Fine. Have it your way.” His left foot lunged forward, and his mace flashed an arc from floor to shoulder.  _ Duck back. Parry blow, and move forward.  _ Robert tucked himself, and swung his arm low and behind the mace. The deadly trajectory changed, and the man fell off balance.  _ Hammer chest with left, pummel head with right _ . His left fist turned, and he swung a crushing strike into the man’s gut. His knuckles struck steel, and he felt several small snaps. Undeterred from the pain, he twisted his body and struck the man across the cheek. His side hitched, sharp pain sticking his old scar. Several droplets of blood hit the ground, and two teeth clattered to the floor. 

Twin cries of agony spurred from Robert and the cloaked man, drowned by the racket of the inn.  _ ‘Breastplate… _ ’ Robert panted, exhaling his pain. ‘ _ Or chainmail. No weapon. Avoid torso and thighs. _ ’ The cloaked man spat blood and cursed. Bandages slowly wound about his companion’s wounds, pulled tight by shaking hands. He turned back to Robert, murderous and hurt. He fell into a fighting stance, and spoke. “You little motherfucker…”

Robert snarled, anger welling. “Don’t you speak poorly about my mum, wretch.” Blood seeped from his wounds, staining the discolored stone and dirt. “This’s ‘tween you an’ me!”

The other man grinned, visage terrifying and ghastly. “Oh? What are you going to do about it, little boy?” His mace swayed in his grip. Robert growled, fury tensing his body. “That is right, of course. Nothing.” Robert pulled holy power from his core, burning and searing. “Because you know she’s a harlot.” Robert stepped forward, forcing the power through his limbs and to his eyes. Searing agony lit past his right bicep, and burned behind his eyes. “Poor boy, son of a poor whore, mad at the world and fighting his betters.” The man’s eyes sparkled with dark mirth and hatred. Robert’s bicep twitched, lancing agony spiraling out. Blazing power rested in his knuckles and eyes. He stepped forward, feinting a high strike. The man brought his mace up, swinging to meet his hand. Robert followed his motion, striking broken knuckles to hale. The power released. 

A brilliant light shone out, brighter than the sun and vindictive as the abyss. The man fell back, hands clutching his eyes and screaming. Smoke wafted from between his fingers. Robert advanced, unaffected by the holy light. He wrenched the mace from the man’s incoherent grip. The other rubbed his eyes, hurt but unharmed from the blinding light. Robert stepped to him and kicked the man solidly in the ribs. His foot met steel, and another sharp snap sounded. The man wheezed and Robert swore, balancing back on his left leg.  _ ‘Right. The other had armor, why wouldn’t he? _ ’ His fist surged, striking the man across the face and senseless. His leg gingerly touched down. Sparks shot, pain flaring out. ‘ _ Yep! Yep!’ _ He hissed, swiftly snatching his coin pouch. ‘ _ Ankle’s busted. Blast…mother’s gonna have a fit… _ ’ Robert dropped the mace, and laid a hand on the blinded and sobbing man. Guilt tugged his heart. ‘ _ Their evil’s been punished, not right to blind ‘em. _ ’ Robert focused and poured the Light into the man. Robert’s pain built. His sobs fell to whimpers, and his eyes began recovery. Robert reached over and ripped his dagger from the senseless man’s shoulder. His legs spurred, swiftly hobbling around to the front side of the inn. Open windows poured light. Music. Laughter. Several patrons quirked their brows, and numerous questioning glances shot his way. The door opened before him, and Kasalis stood behind it. 

The crusader, unarmored and clad in simple linens, pointed firmly to the stairs. Robert opened his mouth, and she held up her other hand. “No. Not here. We talk in our room.” Turning about on her heel, the powerfully built woman strode away. Her sturdy legs swallowed the stairs, leaving Robert to limp behind. Snickers about his maleness became jests, and jests of his fragility became laughter. Shame burned through Robert, and he stumbled up the stairs. _ ‘Wha’ do they know!? Huh? Nothin’! _ His broken ankle took his weight, and he tripped. His hands shot out, stabilizing himself along the banisters. The broken knuckles of his left screamed, and his maimed forearm spurt blood. The scar on his left pulled, wrenching his breath away. Laughter became uproar.

Robert grit his teeth and continued, entering the small room his mother rented.  _ ‘Bastards...bastards all! The rottin’ blighters!’ _ Kasalis perched on the bed, near Robert's open bedroll. Her eyes cut cold and true. “I heard that skuffle. Before anything else: did you kill anyone?” She clipped, neatly folding her arms and crossing her legs.

Robert fell back. He hurled the door shut.. “No! No…” His back slid along the wall. The ground met his haunches.  _ ‘Leastwise...I don’t  _ think _ I killed the one… _ ’

Kasalis exhaled loud and long, dipping her head. Several movements shook it. “Alright...alright...good.” She met his gaze again, concern softening the ice of her eyes. “How bad are you hurt?”

The inn below quieted in volume, the joke of the evening dying down. Robert sighed and kicked out his legs. “Slashed up arm. Broken knuckles, and ankle.” The young man listed his injuries, swift and practiced.

Kasalis bit her lip and nodded. “Not too bad then. The others?” The night breeze blew welcome and clean through their high window.

Robert groaned, looking aside. “Uh...well…” He cleared his throat and folded his arms. “One laceration, across the thighs, and a deep stab wound. And the other a busted jaw and temporary blindness.”

His mother sighed, falling back on the simple bed. “Robert...what am I going to do with you?” Her head ruffled the bedding, turning back and forth.

Robert grinned. Softness overtook his broad and scarred features. “Love me and cherish me, for now and forever?” Kasalis snorted. “Aww, come now. They had it coming.”

Laughter rumbled Kasalis’ chest. “You sure about that? What were they doing?” She pulled herself upright, one brow quirked up.

Robert glanced aside. His hands fidgeted. “Well...see…” He chewed his lip, avoiding eye contact. “They...were...”

Caution deflated Kasalis. “They were?” She held her chin, allowing herself to slouch over. “What?”

Robert cleared his throat. “Well…” His right hand rubbed his neck. His left dropped, touching down gingerly.  _ ‘Can’t exactly lie… _ ’ His eyes sheepishly darted about. “They were standing in the alleyway looking…menacing.”

Kasalis groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Robert... _ looking menacing _ ? You mean some folk were standing and talking?” Exhaustion hammered her.

His arms folded. “Well...yeah. And they nicked my coin purse!” His courage waned, and he failed to meet his mother’s tired look. “‘S true.”

Kasalis fell back again, more firmly. The bed creaked and groaned. “Was this before or after you pretended to be an invalid?” Her left hand covered her eyes. “And don’t try telling me you didn’t: someone as big as you?” The wind slowed, and the crowd below rose in volume. “Carries himself like a warrior? Alert and cautious?” She shook her head softly. “Come now.”

Robert licked his lips and adjusted himself, mindful of his broken ankle. “...it...it was after…” He finally muttered out.

A song stirred beneath. The patrons clapped along. The melody brushed by, stirring and happy. “Robert…” Kasalis muttered, uncovering her eyes. “You really need to stop looking for trouble.” Robert puffed indignantly. “I’m serious.” She clipped, interrupting whatever built in his mouth. “No more. You are a crusader. We’re looking for evils to stop, not people to beat silly in alleyways.” Her breath exhaled sharply. “Thought I taught you better’n that.”

Robert slumped back. “...They would’a done it, me or no…And I wasn’t lookin’ fer’ trouble…” He folded his arms and pulled his knees to his chest. _ ‘Not like I went out there fer’ a fight...I was lookin’ for wrongs to right...tha’s all…’ _ The chorus below sprung out, gaudy and gay. “Was jus’...was jus’...”

Kasalis rolled up, bringing her legs beneath herself. “I think you were bored, aye?” Robert remained silent, nodding faintly. “Aye. And the folks you fought…” She bobbed her head. “...Likely unsavory. Probably would have done it either way, right?”

Robert dropped his right knee, grinning and nodding. “Right! Rotters be as rotters do.” His mother's acquiescence emboldened him. “S’good it was me they jumped. Some other poor folk would’a got kicked good.”

Kasalis smirked. “Still…no one is to say they were going to jump someone tonight.” She pursed her lips and appraised him hard. “You provoked them, Robby. You went looking for trouble.”

Robert groaned, palming his eyes. “‘Right! Alright fine! I was bored with sittin’ at a tavern table an’ doin’ Light’s damned nothin’!” He huffed. His features flickered swiftly. Shame. Outrage. Regret. Pleading. “I want’d ta do sumthin good.” His voice cracked. “I wanted to fight fer the Light, and the small folks.”

Kasalis stood, and walked to him. Her back hit the wall, and she slid down to level with Robert. “Robby...why did you want to fight?” Her hand gripped his shoulder, rubbing lightly. “You fight all of the time. Take a break. Relax, and enjoy your time for a while.”

Robert leaned over. His weight pressed against her. “...But I don’t want to do that, mum.” She shifted, slinging her arm around him and holding his weight. “It's...boring.” He gulped down his anxiety. “Sitting around...there’s nothing to do. Fightin’...that’s where I feel alive mum.” The weight clutching his chest eased. Sharp pain faded. Dull ache roared. “Don’t feel  _ alive _ in some tavern.”

Kasalis pressed a kiss to his hair, rocking gently. “Oh sweetling...fighting…” She lay her head on his shoulder. “Sure fighting is exciting...but there’s so much more to life…” 

Robert closed his eyes, drifting peaceably . The strong arms of his mother enfolded him in sanctuary. “...Like what, mum? Women?” She stiffened. “Can’t ‘ave that. Feasting and drinking?” He shrugged, and Kasalis relaxed. “Holds no appeal. Gambling? Rolling dice? Never liked it.”

The crowd below quieted, and the music ended. Several pairs of boots moved on and by, entering their own rooms. “Robby...I...I know. But you’ll find something.” She swayed gently. “You just need to keep searching. You’ll find it...I know you will.” Weakness broke her voice. “...You could...you could forsake your vows and leave me. Find a pretty girl…”

His own limb disentangled and wrapped around her. “I...no. No mother.” He kissed her hair. “No. I’ll not forsake my vow, and I’ll not forsake you.” The wind rose, cooling and calm. “Akarat as my witness, I will never abandon you.”

Kasalis laughed, hugging him tight. “Oh, my dear sweet boy…” Her arms playfully shoved him. “Always know what to say, hmm?” She stood, and stretched. “Well, I’m not done with my evening. I’m headed down to the bar.” 

Robert winced, and adjusted his hurt limbs. “Could you fix me up afore you go, then?” The wood creaked and his left leg pushed himself up. 

Kasalis folded her arms and pursed her lips. “No. I don’t think so.” 

Robert tilted his head, brow quirking. “What? Why not?”

“...I think this could be a lesson.” She gripped the door handle. “You looked for that fight, and you provoked it.” Robert scowled. “None of that. I think, since these wounds were won on your own time, and for your own reasons, I’ll not heal them for you.” The door opened. Laughter and gentle conversation drifted. “Need to face these consequences on your own.” She stepped out, and closed the door.

  
Robert blew out his tension, buzzing his lips. He looked down his leg to the broken ankle. His tendons flexed, pulling the break. Sharp hissing air passed through his teeth. ‘ _ Ow! Ow. Ah hell… _ ’ Robert stilled himself, and brought forth the healing light. His right bicep spasmed. His chin clenched. His heart warmed and beat harsher. The energy pressed to his wound. Splinters reformed, uncomfortable and unnerving. ‘ _ So much harder to heal yourself _ …’ Robert groaned, and brought forth more of the burning power. Fatigue dragged at him.  _ ‘This will take a while _ …’ Gritting his teeth, he resumed his efforts. Below, music and laughter bellowed.


	16. Chapter 16

_ Incandescent flashes of gold. Sparkling blue, grand and mysterious geometric shapes of glittering azure. Premonition. Suddenly, as if it had been there all along, Horrid streaks of red blazed through the tranquil scene. Anarchy. Desperation. Desolation. Shapes and colors once splendorous reduced to dull, tattered mockery. An unending tide of black reached out from the void, consuming all in its path… _

Robert jerked awake. His breath drew ragged and sharp. Heart pounding in his chest, he clutched the dagger near his bedroll _. ‘Heaven's above...what kind’ve  _ nightmare _ was that?’ _ Ethereal barbs stuck his soul, dragging south-west.  _ ‘Akarat’s teeth! Am I possessed!? _ ’ His breathing quickened. Pants drew through his ragged mouth.  _ ‘Heaven above _ …’ He wiped his brow, sweat beading heavily.

“Bad dream?” Kasalis whispered. The slow morning wind blew soft, comforting and cooling.

Robert nodded, relaxing his hand and stilling his breath. “Aye. Bad.” He rubbed his temples, left hand still sore. “Just...colors and shapes.” He popped his neck, anxiety tightening his frame. “Gold...and red?” The young man sat up, left rubbing his eyes. “Almost like...almost like they were fighting?” His head shook. “I dunno. And it had this feeling this...this…”

Kasalis spoke, righting herself. Her eyes cut. Serious. Hard. Focused. “A pulling? That way?” She jerked her thumb to her left, pointing south-west. “Something tugging around you?”

Robert’s jaw slacked, and his eyes widened. “Aye...aye a pulling that way.” He straightened his spine. “‘Owed you know that?”

Kasalis stood. “I’ve had that dream on and off since before I found you, Robby.” She broke into motion, hastily breaking down their room. “Comon, get to packing. We move.” 

Robert sprung, stowing away his own items in the varied satchels and bags that would hold them. “Alright. But why mother? You said you’ve had this dream on and off?” Dagger in sheath. Chainmail over head. Bedroll stowed and tied. “Why are we leaving all of a sudden?”

Kasalis donned her armor. “That is a vision, some kind of premonition.” She stepped into her greaves. “Every time I’ve seen it, something important has happened.” Her sabatons laced up. “I saw it the morning I met you. And the day you became my apprentice.” Her heubark settled on her strong torso. “I saw it the day you almost died. The day you called me mother…” She tied her gauntlets, voice trailing off. She picked up her helmet, a winged steel casque, elegant and proud. A slit visor cut across the eyes, protective and imposing. She stared a moment. Several seconds passed. She shook her head. “...The day my mentor died. Every time, it has been something important.” Her helmet sunk into place. The clamps locked tight. “I’m following it, and I suggest you do as well.”

Robert leaned back, chewing his lip.  _ ‘Every time? Heaven above _ …’ He tied down his chainmail, and slung his packs over his broad shoulders. “But I saw it too...what does that mean?” 

Kasalis barked a laugh, echoing and ethereal behind her skin of iron. “I don’t know, sweetling.” She grabbed her flail and strapped it to her hip. “But I know it is important. For you, and for me.”

Robert grinned.  _ ‘Well, seems like mostly good things then.’ _ Excitement sparked. ‘ _ I wonder what might be in store then…’ _ He tied his mace to its bandolier. ‘ _ Some great event? Some great battle!? _ ’ He looked over himself and the room, double checking all of his supplies.  _ ‘I’m ready! By the Light am I ready!’ _ He brushed his flank, and turned. “‘Right mum, I’m ready.” 

Kasalis nodded. She glanced over the room. “Alright. Let’s pay the innkeep, and head out.” Robert strode purposefully, smiling and opening the door for her. “Ah. Thank you, sweetling.” Behind her helmet, she grimaced.  _ ‘I fear...we both had that vision. Could it be _ …’ She exited and looked over Robert. Strong. Willful. Excitable. Her apprentice. Her son.  _ ‘Akarat willing...I will not allow that.’ _

Robert closed and locked the door behind him, and leapt into motion. Kasalis stifled a chuckle.  _ ‘Well at least  _ he’s _ not worried. _ ’ She sighed quietly. The tavern around them lay asleep, quiet and unmoving.  _ ‘Nothing wrong with that, ‘sides how much he is liking violence these days… _ ’ The dark thoughts furrowed her brow, and she passively followed Robert. He spoke low and excited. “Right. Hand over a silver and I’ll go pay the innkeep.” Kasalis smirked, and handed over the coin. Her son took off, surprisingly quiet for a man of his size. She folded her arms, slowly walking down the stairs.  _ ‘Whatever today brings, I will be ready. _ ’ Her steps continued, leaving the inn and entering the dark morning air.  _ ‘That I am sure of. I will be ready. _ ’

Footfalls fell behind her. Robert stepped around her, standing parallel. “You alright mum?” He whispered, low and concerned. “You look...off.” Kasalis frowned. ‘ _ Damn the boy. He’s been around long enough to know my body language through my Light’s Damned  _ armor _. _ ’ 

She huffed, making a show of stretching out. “Of course. Just a bit cold this morning is all.” Her helm concealed her anxious and worried visage. 

Robert rolled his shoulder, and stretched out his own arms. “Alright...cold never really got to you…” He grimaced and looked away. “But alright.” His hands gripped themselves behind his head. “Keep your secrets.”

The morning breeze blew strong, chill vapor dimming the scents of the city. Quiet murmuring rose from the town. Conversations. People about their tasks. Birdsong. Kasalis sighed.  _ ‘He’s just concerned about you is all...still…doesn’t need to be snarky _ …’ She shook her head, and walked down the street. “Really Robert, I’m fine.” Several townsfolk moved about their daily business, placid gaits unhurried and instinctive. “I’ll tell you if something is the matter, truly.”

Robert followed, three paces behind and one to her right. Kasalis looked back, nearly pleading. Robert grimaced and nodded. “Alright, ok. I trust you, mum.” He unslung his arms and turned his head skyward. The cool morning breeze wafted by, tickling the scruff of his face. “So... follow the yearning, I get that part.” His lips tugged a grin. “But do we have any other direction? Any other plan?” 

Her head swayed left and right. “Not really, no.” The mud beneath her boot heels squelched. “Figure we’ll just head along, do what comes natural.” Her hands met her hips. “Sound alright?”

Robert chuckled. “Well...I don’t guess we have much alternative.” He followed along, unhurried and watchful. ‘ _ Does me proud, he does _ …’ The din of town life slowly fell behind them, birdsong and moving water usurping their place. The Bessit mountains peaked through the foggy morning.

Kasalis set their march. A small chuckle slipped from her. “No, not really. I mean...we could ignore the visions and do something else…” Robert chuffed. “...But mercenary work’s never been as satisfying, eh?”

Robert followed, footfalls swift and steady. “No. Akarat’s teeth, no.” His pouches and strapped up items jostled. “Much prefer doing the work of the Light. By far.” The trees swayed in the morning sun. “Don’t pay well, but we should have plenty for some time.”

Kasalis’ mind drifted. Rumination dominated, dragging her focus away. “Aye. Should have enough for some time.” Robert continued exchanging small talk. She nodded, and agreed occasionally. ‘ _ Something is brewing...I know it _ …’ Her memories surfaced. Meticulous and alert, she sifted through them.

Robert asked another question, and she responded simply. ‘ _ When I met my mentor _ …’

_ Her parents walking with her in the woods. A sturdy lumberjack, and an annoyed merchant woman. She danced through the tree as her father belted out a song. She sang back the chorus, and her mother whistled reluctantly. Her father called out, high and sudden. She turned, and screamed. A great dead tree uprooted itself, and giant wooden limbs pulled from the damp earth. Her mother called out, calling her name. Terror rooted the young girl, and her body seized. Her father called out desperately. The wooden arm swung. And struck a solid shield of white and black. A man in black iron plate flashed before her, trailing golden light. His armor lay layered in segments, heavy, and protective. He swung a flail expertly, shattering bark and wood. Golden flames and runes etched upon the beasts skin. Hands grabbed her. Her mother picked her up, and her body snapped from its trance. She cried, and clung tightly to her mother. She glanced back, and saw the man hurl a shimmering hammer of gold, destroying the vile creature. Awe filled her, and the three adults drew near, assuring she was alright and speaking swiftly to each other.  _

She turned her gaze skyward.  _ ‘I was so scared...and after seeing him kill that fiend...so determined. _ ’ Robert stumbled slightly on his healing ankle. She shot a hand out and steadied him. _ ‘I remember so vividly thinking “I will be that to someone one day.” A hero. A savior. It is what made me accept his offer in the first place…’  _

She looked over her apprentice. _ ‘What reason...why did he accept my offer? Fear? Hope? Panic? How is it right that I shove him in my footsteps? Surely he did not choose for the same reason as I?.. _ .’ She folded her arms, and shivered.  _ ‘When I took up the mantle _ …’

_ She held her mentors head in her lap, tears spilling on his old, rugged face. Deep wounds cut through his plate, and the poison of the demons ravaged him. He reached a hand up and brushed her hair aside, telling her to cheer up. That he was ready, and that she would be a fine crusader. His eyes shone bright. He asked her to call him Steviki. That she was Kasalis now.  _ Tears burned her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. Robert ceased talking, and she silently thanked him.  _ She buried him as he requested, right in the field where he fell. The stubborn old man refused her offer to take him to a proper cemetery. The rain poured heavy. Sorrow devastated her heart, but she stood tall with courage and purpose. He had granted her the chance she hoped for. The knowledge. The strength. She was now and forever more a force of good, and one day she could save a young child just like herself. _

_ ‘But you didn’t… _ ’ The darkness of her mind whispered. ‘ _ You arrived too late to save your apprentice, and now you are all he has left… _ ’ Weariness bore upon her.  _ ‘ _ Your _ parents are still alive. _ Your _ sister. Where is his? Where were you when _ his  _ was butchered?’ _ Birdsong mocked her fragility. ‘ _ Kasalis could have handled this...he would have been there to save him… _ ’

A quiet sob wracked her. ‘ _ Kasalis...why did you have to leave me? _ ’ She sniffled.  _ ‘Don’t be daft, old girl. It’s the way of things. _ ’ Her chastisement quirked her lip in a half smile. ‘ _ ’Sides...you got there in the evening after the attack. No chance to help. _ ’ Her eyes drifted over her son. ‘ _ But...sooner or later...I’m going to have to leave him too _ …’ He returned her gaze. She jerked away, returning her eyes to the sky.  _ ‘But when that time comes...would he wish it? Did he ever truly want to be a crusader? _ ’ Her lungs rattled. She cleared her throat, and waved away Robert's attention. _ ‘He’s...he’s my baby...and I don’t want this life for him if he doesn’t want it _ …’ The morning sun shone, cutting through the misty clouds. ‘... _ and sometimes...I don’t think he does _ .’

“Mother…” Robert spoke up, halting and grabbing her shoulder. “Please. Something is hurting you...what is it?” His brilliant blue eyes sparkled with worry. 

She gently gripped his hand, and squeezed. “It’s nothing, really. Just…” She detached his hand and lowered it. “Worries and troubles. Normal things.”

A heavy sigh rattled his lungs, and he gripped his waist. “Right. Right. So: I don’t want to talk about it right now.” His smirk tugged her heartstrings. “I understand. I trust you. You’ll tell me eventually.”

She grinned beneath her sturdy helmet and pat his shoulder. “Of course. I will tell you eventually sweetling.” Their march resumed. “It’s not an issue for a while yet, anyway.”

He quirked his brow, and shook his head. “Aye...I

Trust you.” The summer breeze blew gentle and calm. He fell silent, and took up pace behind her. 

Kasalis strode heavy and hard, powerful legs swallowing ground. Her heartbeat swift and true, she turned her thoughts to the future.  _ ‘When will I fall? What will end my life? _ ’ The sun crawled overhead.  _ ‘I hope it isn’t Khazra….the boy already has a vendetta against them. He would fight them until he  _ died _ if they claimed me too… _ ’ Insects chirped, and mammals called. Bright bushes, grasses and trees burst in full bloom. ‘ _ He is tough sure, but he gets hurt every time he fights, and he wouldn’t  _ stop _ if that happened. _ ’ She shook her head.  _ ‘Maybe it’ll be a cliff, and he’ll swear vengeance against the earth. Least that would keep him grounded.’ _ She grinned, humor lightening her heart. _ ‘Or maybe it will be hunger, and he’ll devote himself to slaying all hunger.’ _ An easy chuckle breathed through her lips. ‘ _ Or maybe, it will be a falling tree, and he’ll… _ ’ 

Robert stopped her, grabbing her shoulder firmly. Her eyes focused, and she followed his gaze. High up the nearby cliff-side, pale blue light billowed. Wisps of ephemeral energy strayed, painting the nearby sky. Robert glanced over, meeting her eyes. The calm blue of his vision was sharp. Determined. Excited. Questioning.

  
_ ‘Heaven’s above _ …’ She untied her flail, and gripped the handle and chain. ‘ _ What dark magic is that? _ ’ Anxiety tightened her heart.  _ ‘Something is wrong _ …’ She closed her eyes, and stilled herself.  _ ‘This is it, I think...time to see what today holds _ .’ Kasalis nodded.  _ ‘Engage obstacles with tenacity and fervor… _ ’ She marched forth, scanning the woodlines. ‘ _ Face the darkness blade in hand _ .’ Her hand tightened on her flail.  _ ‘Crush those who would oppose the cause. Pity the frail, challenge the mighty. _ ’ The hill sloped up, and the sounds of nature fell silent. ‘ _ Destroy any who would harm the innocent _ .’ She glanced at Robert, and pulled forth searing power from her core.  _ ‘Show no weakness. _ ’ She pulled up her shoulders and readied her strong muscle. The waving blue haze rose from the cave face before them. ‘ _ Never surrender.’ _


	17. Chapter 17

Robert popped his neck, following Kasalis. His mentor dropped her flail chain. The heavy head swung low. Light golden flashes waxed over the surface. The pale blue mist brushed over his face. Chilling cold pierced his nerves. ‘ _ Cold as the grave...blast it al _ l…’ He shivered. ‘ _ That...that is unclean. Unnatural. Wrong. _ ’ Cold weight stifled his lungs. He unhitched his mace and gripped the familiar handle. Forcing stillness over his body, he closed his eyes and steadied himself. Inhale. Wait. Exhale. ‘ _ Engage obstacles with tenacity and fervor. _ ’ He opened his eyes. Kasalis’ head observed him. He nodded and she returned it. They stepped through the cave entrance. 

The stench of blood assailed them, dead and resting. ‘ _ Face the darkness blade in hand _ …’ His fingers flexed, tightening and loosening over his mace. Their steps echoed through the small cavern. ‘ _ Light above…crush...crush those who would oppose the cause _ …’ A stone jut from the earth, stained with ancient layers of blood and runed heavily. Garish swirls of blue and black colored the stone’s top. Hostile glares pierced his mind, crushing weight piling atop him.  _ He should not be here. _ His breathing spiked. ‘ _ Pity the frail… _ ’ Pity for himself surfaced. ‘.. _.challenge the mighty _ …’ Terror clawed his heart. A familiar hand gripped his shoulder and squeezed. He breathed deeply, focusing inward. ‘.. _.destroy any who would harm the innocent _ .’ He returned his mother’s gaze and grinned. She nodded hesitantly.  _ ‘Show no weakness _ .’ He righted himself, tension still coiled tight.  _ ‘Never surrender. _ ’ He grit his teeth. ‘ _ Never _ .’

Kasalis turned. Her posture questioned; ‘Are you alright?’ More serious. ‘ _ Truly worried...well I suppose I am to… _ ’ Robert steeled himself, and whispered. “I’m fine.” He allowed his eyes to trail. Smaller caverns branched left and right. Beaded veils, ornate and beautiful, obscured the passage. A violent blood streak followed the main tunnel. Smears and mars scuffed along the path, and the scent of death oozed forth. “Follow the blood trail? Investigate other passages after?” He shook himself.  _ ‘You’re used to this, boy. Snap out of it.’ _ Wrenching talons clawed his core. ‘...t _ hen why’s it  _ feel  _ so different _ …’

His mentor looked about, fingers flexing and relaxing. Her chin dipped, thoughts rushing through her head. Several seconds later she nodded, and assumed a defensive stance. Her footfalls fell light, leading the way deeper in the cavern. Robert hefted his mace and readied himself, adopting the same cautious stance of his mother. Dancing lights of pale blue flicked in the distance. Rough carven walls stretched out, bumpy and uneven. Every ridge jut forth in a bright fusion of blue and black.

Nagging thought tugged Robert's mind. The walls swirling bumps screamed familiarity. He paused, and observed the walls closer. Dreadful terror built.  _ ‘Horns _ …’ His eyes danced over the elegant patterns. ‘ _ Goat horns _ …’ His chest constricted. ‘ _ Painted Khazra horns! _ ’ Sweat beaded over his body. Panicked fury surged. His hands gripped his weapons fiercely. The powerful muscle of his body tensed, pain smothered beneath adrenaline’s searing kiss. Kasalis stopped, and approached him slowly. “Robert...easy there…” She held her arms up. “Breath. Easy…” 

His chest fluttered. Short wracking gasps tore through his throat.  _ ‘Inhale! _ ’ His conscious mind bellowed, and his body obeyed. He drew in a deep and shaky breath. ‘ _ Hold _ …’ His heart hammered. The pulse of his blood cried out. For battle, or retreat.  _ ‘Exhale!’ _ Air exploded out. ‘ _ Inhale… _ ’ He breathed in, gentler and more controlled. ‘ _ Hold. _ ’ Kasalis stopped a stride from him. Her blue eyes shone through the helmet’s visor, concerned and hopeful.  _ ‘Exhale _ …’ Panic dimmed. Clarity returned.  _ ‘Inhale _ …’ He continued his breathing, and nodded. ‘ _ Hold. So there are Khazra _ …’ Righteous anger boiled.  _ ‘Exhale. Alright. Okay. Alright _ …’ Kasalis’ eyes flashed pride, and she turned back. Bloodthirsty determination swelled within. ‘ _ We will end whatever blasphemy these goat-swine stir.’ _ Palpable wrongness seeped from the small bend ahead and right.  _ ‘On my soul, and the blood of my fallen family, I swear it _ !’ 

Kasalis stopped short, and held her flail arm behind her. Three fingers spurred up. Robert stilled himself. One finger tucked. Robert dropped and resumed his stance. Another finger tucked. He dipped his head and readied his legs. Kasalis gripped her flail and surged around the bend. Robert sprung, sprinting to take up position left of his mother. He turned, and brought forth his shield and holy might.

Cascading eddies of pale vapor billowed, emanating from a sigil engraved upon the cave’s end. A figure stood before it, arms held aside and high. Guttural whispers flew, and Robert’s skin crawled.  _ ‘A human...perhaps he is cleansing this place? _ ’ A pile of wretched horns sat before the man. A broken and battered Khazra body, bedecked in heavy iron armor, lay collapsed between them. The blood trail ended where the body lay.  _ ‘Such dedication…his wounds...the way the body fell...he fought after crawling all this way _ …’ Robert furrowed his brows. ‘ _ Almost...almost like a man defending his temple… _ ’ He shook off the ludicrous notion, and shifted his hammer to his left hand. He held up his right, and called out. “Hail friend!”

The man twisted. Robert stepped back. Gaunt features, hateful and pale, regarded him. The left hand of the stranger whipped forth, palm pressing out to him. Crimson blood pooled from his hand and chest. The fluid shot forth, solidifying and piercing his abdomen. Kasalis cried out, and charged forth. _ Injured.  _ Robert gasped and hunched over. Training overtook thought. _ Badly. Fall back, recite Laws of Hope and let mother handle this _ . His hands clutched for the bloody spear desperately, but found only air. He looked down. Nothing impaled him, but crimson blood gushed from the clean hole on his chest.  _ ‘What vile _ …’ The man shouted a coarse word, and pain rent Robert’s world. Every bone within his body screamed, and suddenly splintered. His flesh tore. Bloody shards, coin sized and jagged, ripped from his hide and swarmed the ghastly man.  _ ‘Heaven above _ …’ The bones of the Khazra ripped out and joined his, swirling about the man and intercepting his mother’s frenzied strikes. ‘ _ What...how _ …’ Shock brought him to his knees. Blood pooled beneath him, sucking away towards the stranger. 

_ ‘Right. Laws of Hope. Empower them _ .’ He brought his left leg up, wincing against the fearsome pain. He channeled forth searing might to his heart.  _ ‘Nurture in your heart compassion and peace… _ ’ Strength and clarity bleed out.  _ ‘Kill with heavy hand and heart _ .’ Wisps of energy bound about him. He pushed to his feet. ‘ _ Doubt not the righteousness of your cause _ …’ His right bicep throbbed, and his adrenaline slowed. He brought his head up, bloody teeth bared against the welling pain. 

Kasalis leaned back, several new scratches marring her armor. Her shield pulled back. The whirring steel in her hand swung, crashing against the mighty bulwark. Blazing light, true and vengeful, illuminated the cave and beyond. The man cried out and fell back, eyes snapped shut. His hands rose skyward, and the bones about merged with empehemeal blue in a solid wall of bone between them. Robert gasped and shook. His heart pounded, hot and strained.  _ ‘Protect those who cannot protect themselves. _ ’ Soothing magic built. ‘ _ Judge others on character and merit. _ ’ He panted, and clutched his chest.  _ ‘Practice mercy.’ _ The final word said, the Laws of Hope imbued him. Building power released. Wisps of healing infused him and stitched flesh and bone. Slow. Steady. Constant. The hammering rhythm of his heart slowed, and the organ began to cool. ‘ _ Don’t...overtax _ …’ He clutched his chest and focused his breathing.  _ ‘Healing… healing oneself taxes the heart...don’t… overtax _ .’ He repeated the words of his mentor, echoing the mantra through his clearing mind. He called weakly. “I’m alright…”

Kasalis, wreathed in blazing fury and golden light, visibly relaxed. She stepped back, and the shimmering light intensified. Her flail fell behind her shield. Power thrummed. Robert saw his blood leaking under the bone wall. He glanced down. The stone beneath him lay clean.  _ ‘Akarat...is he going to use my blood for something? What a… _ ’ A massive rune cut the ground. A purple diamond, flowing to the corners of a thrice spun circle. Robert opened his mouth. Pain pulsed through him. Looming dread piled on his shoulders. Death peered through the veil. His beating heart dominated all senses. The feeling passed in seconds and Robert fell back, gasping and reeling. Nothing remained of the rune. Kasalis cried out, but held her ground. Her heavily armored left leg rooted itself. Her shield absorbed her brilliant aura, blazing like the heavens themselves. Robert jerked himself into motion, readied to follow her.

His mother ran forth, and slammed her shield firmly in the wall. The entirety of her body's weight flew forth. Dazzling light exploded. Shattering fragments of boney wall scattered. Glimmering spots marred his vision.  _ Assume defensive stance, and assess situation. _ Robert sunk, settling his shield before him. The stranger fell back, eyes wide. Surprise flashed over his horrid visage, quickly replaced with grim resolve. Kasalis stepped back. Her shield raised high, protective and mighty. Robert assumed position aside her, blinking away the lights. 

The stranger’s back touched the stone wall. Kasalis exhaled painfully. Robert shook in place. The man’s white, dead eyes scanned over them. The stranger lunged forward. His hands swept back and left, and a great scythe of sickly green formed within his grasp. Robert widened his eyes. He stepped back, bracing his shield. Kasalis grunted, and swung forth to intercept the blow. The man’s face twisted in a rictus grin, and he twisted his blade mid air. The deadly arc swung low, and sliced through Kasalis’ midriff. The scythe tore through her body and soul, unhindered by steel. A sickening wrench flopped Robert’s stomach. Her flail collided with the man’s shoulder, tearing a swath of ashen flesh free. Kasalis screamed and fell to the ground below.

Robert lunged forth. The stranger hit the ground, scrambling back and uttering more vile words. Calm hatred enfolded Robert, and he swung violently at the man’s back. Punishment filled his body. His heart fell numb. His right bicep hitched and spasmed. The mass of scarred tissue on his left stole his breath. The hole in his gut split open.Bone and sinew rose before his mace, and broke beneath it’s fury. His mace continued, slamming the man’s back. The stranger hit the floor fully, bouncing lightly and wheezing blood. Robert stepped back, arm positioning for another mighty blow. The stranger twisted and shot forth his arm. A stream of rancid red and green infused the Khazra corpse. Robert eyed it, pulling in defensively. The corpse twitched and sprung to life, gripping the crude glaive resting near it. 

Sickness welled within Robert. His stomach clenched and roiled. The Khazra sprinted forward, silent and dead.  _ Step back, catch opponent’s weapon on shield _ . His well trained instinct kicked his mind, and braced. The weapon of the zombie struck his shield. His powerful legs surged. Twisting his hips and throwing his shield high, he knocked the weapon far from the zombie. He carried his momentum, swinging a titanic blow. Bone split. Flesh parted. The khazra’s head shattered. 

Gore rained down. Putrid scent spilled. Robert gagged and coughed, pulling back and wiping blood from his eyes. A brilliant flash of gold spun before Robert’s eyes. The golden Hammer of Justice struck true to the stranger’s chest. Howls of agony split the air, and the scent of burning flesh assailed them. Golden flames licked the strangers chest. His hands glowed with the ethereal blue power. “You interlopers will not defy the new balance.” His voice, dry and abrasive, cut through the wretched haze. 

Kasalis spoke, pain and anger bleeding forth. “The crusade marches on,  _ fiend _ .” She staggered to her legs, uneven and wobbling. Robert noticed the blood staining her chin and the glowing aura of her healing magic.  _ ‘Not good...we must end this quickly! She can barely stand  _ after  _ healing! _ ’ 

The stranger bared his teeth, snarling and hateful. His eyes sunk deep and pale, lighting with the strange power. “So predictable…” The man spat, and gathered the mist before him. Robert’s stomach clenched. Both crusaders brought forth the light of punishment and readied their shields. A burning sigil, two inverted crescents over a dripping circle, burst to life over the strangers forehead. ‘ _ The same one on the wall…’ _ He thrust forth his arms, and the tide of roiling fog washed over Kasalis. 

Robert froze. Kasalis yelped. The stranger panted. Kasalis’ cries turned weak and incoherent. Dread sunk Robert’s stomach low. _ ‘No...no! No! NO! _ ’ Robert drew forth power from the infinite well within, and his flesh lit aflame. Fire coursed through his veins, and he looked to the sky.  _ ‘Holy Light above, bring me to battle!’ _ His mind roared. Flesh burned away. Beams of light ascended. Robert burned among the heavens, wrath and fury dulling his pain. His eyes pierced the terrain, and he saw the frozen scene below. His mother on her knees, one hand clutching her throat. Horrid grey and black streaked under her skin. The stranger stood, jaw agape and eyes wild. Robert thrust forth his mace.

Robert thundered to the earth, scattering the vapors and horns covering the walls. His mace impacted the fiends chest. The stranger exploded, seared chunks of tissue and flesh flung everywhere. Holy fire burned the fiend, devouring the viscera.

Robert fell to his knees. Shock stole his breath. He stirred his legs and shoved himself up.  _ ‘Mother...must help mother…must help mother… _ ’ The mantra focused his pain, and he staggered to his feet. He cast his gaze about wildly, and found his mother prone and wheezing.

Tears and panic bleed his eyes. Robert fell forward, crawling to her. His right arm screamed murder. Kasalis coughed and hacked. He wrapped his hands around her. Poison vapors coiled beneath her skin. He brought her to his chest, enfolded her tightly. Robert cast his right arm high, beseeching the heavens. A protrusion, the size of his thumb, stuck from his bicep. Robert blinked and disregarded it.  _ ‘Heavens above, Holy Light, grant me your love.’ _ His heart begged. ‘ _ Grant me the love you hold for all mankind, and let me use it’s power.’ _ Robert closed his eyes, and tapped the reservoir within.

Agony boiled his marrow. His right arm immediately fell limp. His body hunched. Blood burst in his veins. His heart hammered hot and hard. The light of heaven filled him, tearing apart his mortal shell. His left arm gripped Kasalis’ fading head, and poured forth the torrent of light. A crescendo of brilliance flashed, and the cave fell dark. 

Robert collapsed back. His back stuck stone. Blood pooled beneath him. His mother coughed and wheezed, stronger and clear. Wracking sobs tore him. Dry, relieved coughs spurt forth his ichor. Robert trembled. Cold sunk deep. Desperation no longer held him firm. He tried to stir his limbs. Nothing moved. Kasalis appeared over him. He smiled, small and bloody. Kasalis cried out, and seized his tunic. She fell upon him. Wet, hot splotches soaked his chest. Thin winding breaths of healing stitched his wounds closed. Slowly. Sluggishly. His mother wept. Robert dropped his head back. Consciousness immediately fled.


	18. Chapter 18

Frozen air drifted, caressing the serene night. Warren breathed deep. He pulled his muscle tight, straining in his kneeling position. Three second later he relaxed his body. The building aches abated, subdued by his minute stretches. The gaunt man looked above, scanning the stars. ‘ _ Five hours past the nightfall. The Winged One should arrive momentarily.’ _ Desert sand blew by. Several grainy particles stung his eyes. Warren blinked, grim visage unrelenting. Far beneath, in the shade of a rock dune, a cave stretched under the earth. A lone figure stood outside. Short curling horns crowned its head, and hooves stood resolute in the cool sand. Heavy and rough iron armor hung over its frame.

Warren observed the creature. ‘ _ It is strong, and observant. Likely a fighter of skill.’  _ His thin, skeletal lips pursed. ‘ _ The best attack would be ambush, blight, and blood.’  _ The necromancer tensed and relaxed his prone body. ‘ _ When the Winged One arrives, I will be ready.’ _

The desert air howled. Daggers of cold lanced his pallid flesh. Warren ignored the sensation, turning his mind inward. ‘ _ To be blessed by the presence of angel…’  _ His lips tugged. A thin smirk formed.  _ ‘I suppose I truly am  _ worthy _.’  _ Pain began building within his limbs. ‘ _ What other possible explanation could there be?’  _ An insect crawled over his leg. Warren ignored it. ‘ _ I have served the Balance long, and am now the heavens would seek to influence me.’  _ The Khazra remained still. Warren narrowed his brows. ‘ _ It hasn’t moved since I arrived...that was at least an hour past. Impressive.’ _

The wind passed, and silence filled the desert. Warren stilled himself, and breathed deep. ‘ _ Patience. Calm. All things in time.’  _ More feet crawled over his leg. Warren frowned, and remained still. ‘ _ The insects appear lively tonight. Were I not afraid to reveal myself, I would curse them away…’  _ Simmering spite grumbled. Warren shifted his thin frame. His dark leathers crinkled. The creature below perked its ears.

Warren fell still and silent. He held his breath, and forced his body steady. The Khazra swiveled it’s head, scanning the sandy swirls and rocky hills. The creature looked over his position. Anxiety gripped his heart. It slowed, but continued its scan. It completed another full look around, and returned to its position. Warren slowly exhaled his stinging breath. ‘ _ I must remain alert and careful. The beast nearly saw me.’  _ He drew in a cool and slow breath. ‘ _ Patience. Calm. All things in time.’  _ He recited the age old mantra of his tutor. ‘ _ The Balance is served before, after and now. Discipline yourself, your duty is unending.’  _

Nagging doubt wiggled in his stomach. ‘ _ Old Quinn’s knowledge… she never told us to extinguish the Khazra…’  _ His breathing steadied, and his lips drew thin. ‘ _ She was great and wise...did she simply believe it impossible?’  _ Restlessness stewed his innards. ‘ _ Did she not have as much knowledge?’  _ Cold swept his body. ‘ _ Or...did she not agree?...’  _ His worn brows drew tight and close. ‘ _ She was wiser than I by far...did she not think the Khazra should be expunged?’  _ Unease built. ‘ _ Come to think of it, Gorrin spoke of the Khazra on occasion. He advocated many things, but never extermination…’  _

Warren’s features sank.  _ ‘Am I wrong?...’  _ A terrible chill swept over him. Piercing daggers of coldest night lanced through him. “No.” The voice of the Winged One spoke. Quiet. Ethereal. Dry. Deep. Meticulous. “You do not act incorrectly.”

Warren dipped his head, remaining still. “A fine evening to you, Winged One.” He swallowed the fear clogging his throat. ‘ _The_ _Khazra didn’t hear?’_ His eyes flashed to the unmoving beast. ‘ _Strange…’_ “And forgive the impudence, but…” His stomach clenched. “Is it not natural that the one who placed this path before me would speak so?”

“You are wise, Warren of Rathma.” The voice swept over him. Unease surged. “Continue to question. Continue to seek.” Warren relaxed his neck. “In answer to your question, I tell you this: seek the answer within.” Warren tucked his chin to his shoulder. “But...I would make my arguments first. Judge the validity of them yourself.” Warren nodded slightly. “I thank you. And worry not over our volume, I have dulled it to the distant.” The Winged One cleared his throat. “The Khazra must be hampered. You know well of the Angelic virtue of fate, correct?”

Warren spoke, quiet and calm. “Of course. It is the duty of mankind to carve their own fates. It is the duty of Angels to guard fate. And it is the duty of Demons to destroy fate.”

The Winged One rumbled in approval. “Not only wise, but knowledgeable as well. Regardless.” The wind rose again. “Within the halls of fate, there are numerous…” The Winged One paused, apparently lost in thought. “ _ Interpretations _ of events that have, will, or are transpiring.” Warren silently agreed. ‘ _ There is always a dissenting opinion.’  _ The cold filled his legs with aching pain. “There exists a rising collective that believe more direct action is required.” Warren nodded slightly. ‘ _ Quinn may not have agreed, but direct action is certainly effective.’  _ The Winged One lowered his volume. “I am one of this collective.”

Warren rumbled in thought. “So you are not certain of this plan?” 

“No.” The Winged One simply stated. 

Warren nodded. “Good… continue, if you would.”

“Of course.” The wind blew by, scratching Warren’s face. “I believe the Khazra must be removed. From the perspective of angel-kind, it is easy to see why. They are three quarters demonic.” Desert sand spun and swirled. “Unlike humanity, they are not a balancing force. The creatures do not serve their own interests. Rather, they all too often serve the Demon hordes.” Warren nodded. “However, your order too would benefit from their removal.”

Warren narrowed his brows. “The priests of Rathma do not benefit. We serve.”

The Winged One’s voice dropped in placation. “Of course. I did not intend to imply such. Allow me to rephrase: I believe your order would agree that they must be destroyed.”

Warren pressed his lips flat. “And why is that? On what grounds do you believe they must be annihilated?” Sand stung his eyes. Warren ignored the feeling.

“Your order believes that angelic and demonic forces must remain in balance, correct?” Warren’s legs stiffened under the nights chill.

“You are nearly correct. We believe that heaven and hell are naturally balanced.” Warren closed his eyes, and allowed emotionless tears to clean them. “The two forces never have been, or ever can be, unbalanced. It is Sanctuary that breaks this primordial rule.” Warren spoke his belief, calm and assured. “Humanity brought forth change. The balance may be shifted, one way or the other. The Priests of Rathma work tirelessly to ensure the Balance remains equal. We step forth when demons attempt to use humanity to overthrow the Balance.” He narrowed his brows and opened his eyes. “Or angels...if they do the same. I admit, angel-kind has yet to do such, but the possibility remains.”

The Winged One hummed. “Thank you. I was aware only superficially of your order’s tenants.” Warren frowned, deep and troubled. ‘ _ Few are…’  _ The cold wind dried his eyes. “My assertion remains, however. The Khazra are naturally three fourths demonic, and more prone to demonic influence than any other non-demonic being.” Warren nodded. “My assertion is this: the Khazra are ultimately a liability to the Balance.”

Warren turned about, raising his stomach to the sky and pressing his back against the sand. “A liability? The priests of Rathma do not deal in  _ possibilities _ . We deal in  _ truths _ .” Warren's courage shrunk small. The Winged One floated behind him, below the cliff he lay on.

The Winged One tilted his cowled head. The six translucent wings of fog, long steady tentacles of flowing light, tucked neatly behind him. Starlight glint off his ornate black armor, a fusion of embossed metal plates and flowing grey robes. His hands lay clasped behind his back, and only vague shadow could be seen of his face. “No? Ponder this with me a moment: Consider a man who has starved ten times in life. Each time, he has murdered to steal food. He starves an eleventh time. What would he do?”

Warren stilled his visage. “It is impossible to know.”

The Winged One raised a hand. “It is mathematics. All things in existence follow patterns. You know this. The Balance is nothing but the greatest pattern of all.”

Warren paused. “That...I suppose that may be true.”

“You do deal in patterns, Warren of Rathma. You do not act upon impulse, but upon knowledge and thought.” Warren pursed his lips. “Another example: A demon rises and forms a cult about it. What is your action?”

Warren stilled himself. ‘ _ A demon forms a cult. Humanity is corruptible. The demon would draw power from its worshippers and distort the balance.’  _ Warren inhaled and exhaled. “I would dispatch the demon.”

The Winged One dipped his cowled head, and lowered his arm. “Why?”

Warren squinted. “The demon would gain power from humanity, and distort the Balance.”

The Winged One shook his head. “No. You do not know this.”

“I do.” The wind died down. He lowered his voice. “Demonic beings seek to destroy the heavens.”

“You do not.” The Winged one intertwined his fingers behind himself. “Demons are, by their very nature, chaotic. One could choose  _ whatever _ path it desires. The fact though, is that  _ most _ would seek as you claim.” He dipped his head. “You do not  _ know _ the demon would disrupt the balance, Warren of Rathma. But the risk is too great to allow it the chance.”

Warren frowned. “I...you may be…” He paused and withdrew. ‘ _ It is true…I do not  _ know  _ that the demon would act against the balance. Humanity sprung forth from action typically considered non-demonic…’  _ Warren nodded. “I think you are correct.”

The Winged One hummed, and his wings stretched up. “Assuming that then, hear this: The scrolls of fate detail that the Khazra shall be instrumental in the overthrowing of heaven. If ever such a thing occurs, the goat spawn shall play a large role in it.”

Warren frowned, and nodded. “Of course...if such a thing is the case, the goatmen should be limited.”

The Winged One extended his hand. “That is all I ask of you, Warren of Rathma. Limit the Khazra. Accept the powers I offer and serve the balance.”

Warren stretched his legs, and sunk below the cliff. His aching muscle strained and tightened. He stood, and approached the Winged One. “I shall accept, if you tell me your name.”

The Winged One extended his hand, offering it to Warren. “I am called...Maltheal.”

Warren nodded, and clasped Maltheal’s hand. “Then the bargain is struck.”

Sudden ice pierced Warren’s veins. Frozen fog roiled off Maltheal, winding around him. The angel brought his other hand to Warren’s head, and scratched a sigil deep in his skin. Two inverted crescents before a dripping circle. The fog condensed and lanced through his body. Warren gasped and collapsed, terrible chill contorting his body. A new wellspring of power rose alongside his essence. A font of unnatural might, odd and artificial. Warren seized up and spasmed.

Several moments passed. Maltheal watched Warren’s struggle placidly. His thoughts ran melancholy. ‘ _ Humanity...so weak and frail to hold such potential.’  _ Warren thrashed on the ground. Maltheal raised his head to the stars, and spoke. “Warren of Rathma, use this strength. Carve the sigil upon the Khazra’s wall, deep in their cavern.” The necromancer coughed and stood, limbs shaky and unsteady.

  
Maltheal nodded to the man, and took flight. His wings carried him high, cresting the night sky. ‘ _ Another Khazra den siphoning strength to the Pale Soul-Stone, another step towards salvation.’  _ Maltheal shot across the sky, a silvery bolt of fading night. His left hand brought the simple crystal up. The gem hung upon his necklace, secure and well attached. A crystal of foggy white, hexagonal and six inches long. He wrapped his fingers about the thick gem, and felt the thrumming power within.  _ ‘The Pale Soul-Stone...a marvel. A wonder. The fruit of tireless study and effort. The only soul-stone capable of trapping Angelic essence. My masterpiece...and my salvation.’  _ The souls of men, beast and Khazra screamed their pain. ‘ _ A needed sacrifice. With this power…’  _ His head raised to the sky. His hand clutched the gem tight. Power suffused him, and pale fog rolled off his body. ‘ _ With this power I shall  _ end _ Hell. With this power I shall protect my brethren, though it be blasphemous.’  _ Roiling cold billowed from his body. ‘ _ No other alternative exists. This is the only way to save the glories of Heaven. By the Crystal Arch, I shall defy the demonic hordes. Through magics heinous and vile, I shall save the heavens.’  _ Twinkling starlight shone above. Another Khazra soul sunk into the Pale Soul-Stone. Maltheal’s power grew. ‘ _ All things in time...after all…’  _ A sudden surge of might filled the stone. The ancestral grave of the Khazra poured forth tens of souls into the Soul-Stone. Grim satisfaction rose. ‘ _...no one can stop Death.’ _


	19. Chapter 19

Lyndon exhaled into his cupped hands. ‘ _ Blasted cold. Never liked spending time in the wild, for just this reason!’  _ The heavy overcoat he wore covered his athletic frame and fine clothing fully. He craned his neck, and looked over the mountain hillock before him. A cave, burrowed into the mountain-side. A well worn path lead down to the valley below. Before the entrance stood a tall Khazra, bedecked in rough iron armor and carrying a crude glaive. The full moons above shone gentle light over the mountains and hills, and gentle wind blew from the north. ‘ _ Blasted, unruly, uncivilized wind…’  _ He shifted the heavy crossbow upon his back. ‘ _ Right then. Midnight is here, and the goaties are off to sleep. Time to move.’  _ Lyndon turned, and addressed his small party. ‘ _ Mercenaries, unruly and only after the money. Perfect.’  _ He spoke quiet and low. “Alright you lot, you ready to be paid?”

A low grumble of agreement rose. “That’s what I like to hear. Now, I doubt this goat will be too much trouble, but let’s us run through the plans again, hmm?”

Markus sighed, and nudged a rock with his foot. “Yeah alright, get on with it though. We ain’t got all night.” The burly man folded his arms beneath his scarred and bald head.

“Right you are, my brutish friend.” Lyndon cleared his throat and shifted his legs. “We are going to enter that cave and collect up as many horns as we can. Markus, you’ll lead.” The burly man nodded and donned his helmet. The mail covering him jingled. “Kaythe, you’ll cover the left flank.” The willowy swordswoman nodded. She unsheathed her rapier and looked down the blade. Her simple leathers crinkled. “Jason, you’ll do some of that magical hocus pocus from the center.” The dusky man groaned, and shook his head. He muttered to himself and scanned over his spell book. Light robes fluttered over his form. “Porter, you’ll take up the right flank.” The roguish man smirked and unsheathed his daggers, layered leather armor quiet. “Naddick, you’ll stay in the center and use that  _ healing light  _ stuff you're always on about.” The plain cleric sighed, and brought up his tome and holy symbol. His robes flowed around his steel breastplate. “I’ll take up the rear and provide ranged fire. Let’s do this quick, clean, and orderly, shall we?” His group met his gaze with greed and anticipation. Lyndon smirked and turned back. “Alright folks, lets us form up, and take that gold of ours.”

Several subdued agreements washed through the group, and they assembled in their formation. Lyndon furrowed his brows and surveyed them again. ‘ _ Long as we work together, should be fine. I’m in the back anyway, so I can always turn tail if things go wrong.’  _ He rubbed his full moustache and goatee. “Alright folks, on three. One…” The party tensed. Hands clutched weapons tight. “Two…” Lyndon unslung his crossbow. He winced, deft fingers swiftly working to ready it. ‘ _ Damnation. Forgot to ready myself in the rush.’  _ Gentle wind blew by. “Three.” The party surged forward and he cranked his crossbow. Porter cried out immediately. Lyndon shot his head up, hands finishing loading the heavy bolt. Porter staggered back, a cruel knife embedded in his chest. Lyndon blanched. ‘ _ Already? I suppose he got unlucky…’ _ Naddick ran to his side and spoke words of mending. His hands gently removed the embedded knife. Lyndon frowned. ‘ _ I see those serrations…will be a nasty wound. Good thing we have Naddick.’  _ Kaythe twined around the Khazra, now leaning back in a tight stance. Lyndon leveled his crossbow, lining a shot on the beast. 

Markus swung his ax and Kaythe lunged. Lyndon held his fire, annoyance flashing through him. The Khazra turned and altered it’s stance. Markus’ ax hammered the creature's heavy plate, and Kaythe punctured it’s shoulder. The beast swung its glaive. Lyndon’s stomach dropped. Crude, sharp iron tore through Kaythe’s nimble form. A Pained scream cut the air. The blade sailed out the other side, bisecting Kaythe’s abdomen.

Markus swore, loud and violent, righting his ax and swinging again. Lyndon felt bile rise. Kaythe lay unmoving, entrails and blood pouring from both halves. She stared groundward, uncomprehending and pained. ‘ _ Split like a ripe grape…’  _ The Khazra coiled into its original stance, blade pointed out. It’s weight fell back and far. Steel met iron and Markus’ blade sparked back. A lance of bright fire shot out and struck through the Khazra’s hide. Singed fur filled the air. Lyndon fired his crossbow. His sharp bolt struck the Khazra in the stomach. The Khazra bleat, loud and pained.

Porter sprinted up and strode around the beast. The Khazra’s stance did not falter. Naddick ran to Kaythe’s body, face pale and scared. Markus growled and swung from the hip, slashing his ax across the Khazra. Porter lunged, daggers held low and ready. The beast turned and thrust forth, impaling Porter. A heavy gash tore across the creatures back, spewing ichor beneath the moonlight. Porter screamed and convulsed. Lyndon paled. ‘ _ This is...suddenly not going well.’  _ Markus swung his momentum, hurling another expletive and heavy strike at the goat man.

The beast dropped his polearm, hurling the haft away. Porter cried his agony, toppling with the bloody rod. The Khazra ducked. Markus’ swing brushed above it. The creature moved in. It’s hands grabbed Markus’ arm at the shoulder and elbow. It’s knee slammed into Markus’ side. The beast grunted, blood shining off his armor in the moonlight, and twisted. A mighty crack split the air, and Markus cried out, falling to the floor. Jason panicked, hands fumbling arcane magics. Lyndon stilled himself. ‘ _ Two dead, one helpless, and two useless. It’s over. We’re outmatched. You failed, you old fool, and now they’re paying the price.’  _ His mind recited calmly. ‘ _ Run. Call the retreat and don’t look back. All we can do now.’  _

Lyndon holstered his crossbow and yelled out. “Retreat! Every man for themselves!” Lyndon turned, and sprinted into the dense woodlands. ‘ _ Only hope the others can get out alright…’  _

Lyndon pumped his legs, running through the moonlit night. Cool air kissed his brow, and he breathed easy and strong. ‘ _ Somehow always knew staying in shape would pay off.’  _ He slowed and looked about. Sweat beaded his brow, and his breath drew heavy. His swift stride swallowed the ground before him. ‘ _ Alright you old scoundrel, I think that should be far enough.’ _ He rolled his arms and looked about. ‘ _ Now, to get my bearings.’  _ Dense forest choked the sky around him. ‘ _...just...get my bearings…’ _ Dread built. ‘ _ Hell’s teeth...I’m lost, aren’t I?’  _ He gripped his hips and scanned about. ‘ _ Well, I suppose there are worse things than being stranded in Khazra territory.’  _ His crossbow fell back into his hands. ‘ _ Can’t think of any, but I’m sure there are.’  _ Hands deft and well practiced, he reloaded his crossbow. ‘ _ Stay low, stay in the shadows. Avoid the goats, and be on your way.’  _ He breathed in and held the air.  _ ‘Not dying today.’  _ He exhaled and stalked forward.

Shadows passed over and about him. The dark forest loomed tall and menacing. Cricket song and the buzz of insects filled his senses. Lyndon strained his ears, listening for anything abnormal. The wind blew by, calm and uncaring. ‘ _ Accursed, stupid wind…’  _ A twig snapped beneath a poorly placed step. A bleat called out. High pitched. Quiet.

Lyndon smirked and steadied himself. ‘ _ Sounds like a weak one.’  _ He readied his crossbow and snuck towards the sound. ‘ _ Lovely. Still a goat to kill. Won’t be going back empty handed.’  _ His feet carried him forward, to the edge of a clearing. He peeked through the trees.

Ahead, a small glade sprung forth. A small burbling creek meandered by. Four small Khazra stood near it. Their tiny forms trembled and shook. ‘ _ Very small…’  _ Lyndon furrowed his brows, observing intently. ‘ _ No taller than a boy of eight. Huh.’  _ His eyes noted their colored horns, swirling blue and white. ‘ _ Lovely. Just what the bounty office is after.’  _ His hands trembled. ‘ _ Just uh...just need to kill some kids…’  _ He ducked his head and sighed.  _ ‘No...no I’m not a murderer.’  _ His head snapped back up. He put down his crossbow and withdrew a sharp knife. ‘ _ Nor do I  _ have _ to be...just need the  _ horns _ after all.’  _ He grinned, full and eager.

Lyndon burst out, snatching the nearest goat child. Bays and bleats assailed his ears. “Shut it! Rotten brats!” His knife flashed, pressing against the lamb’s horn. The gaggle grew still and silent. “Eh?” He glanced around. Each Khazra gazed fearfully on him, goat eyes full and wide. “Well I won’t complain.” He shifted his grip to the horn, and cut the small growth off. The Khazra child wailed, agony splitting the sky and blood spurting from the stump. ‘ _ Course they're still growing…life won't just let me have some gold without tugging the Lights-Damned  _ heartstrings _!’  _ Lyndon growled and threw the little one away. His hands stashed the small horn in his pouch. The Khazra child hit the ground. Wails and cries pierced the night. Guilt tugged his stomach. Unease built. “Right, which one’s next?”

One Khazra, larger and taller than the others, stepped forward and pawed the earth. The little one shook his head. Lyndon smiles. “Ah, how cute. Alright.” His hands snaked out and seized the child. The child struggled and thrashed, bumping his arms off. Lyndon scowled and gripped the child again. It swung its head forward, smacking his head with its small horns. 

Pain hammered his mind. ‘ _ Rotten brat! I’m only trying to dismember you!’  _ He swiftly brought his knife to the colored horn and cut it off. More wailing. The horn fell into his bag. The Khazra child bit his hand. Blood seeped. Pain lanced him. “Fuck! Little…” Lyndon stopped. His insticts siezed hold of him. ‘ _ Something’s watching me.’  _ Cold terror filled him. His eyes turned up. A large Khazra stood in the clearing. Rage burned its eyes, and one of its hands cocked back a spear. Breath hammered from its heaving lungs. The two watched each other. ‘ _ Right...daddy just had to arrive…’ _

Lyndon stood, pressing the knife against the lamb’s throat. “Alright dad, mom, or whatever the hell you are.” He pointed his dagger. “Drop the spear or junior here gets it.” The Khazra snorted. “I mean it flea-bag, I’m not dying today!” The little one in his grip squealed and yelped. It kept repeating a sound. ‘ _ A word. Tag-ann? That mean save me or something?’  _ Several seconds passed. The larger beast relaxed its arm and held it aside. It’s fingers released the spear.

Lyndon exhaled. Cold relief poured over him. Sweat ran down. “Ah. Good to know you do care about your little ones.” He backed up a step. The Khazra approached. His knife pressed firmly against the struggling lambs throat. “Ah! Ah! No no no. Back there.” He pointed his dagger. A hoof slammed his foot. Lyndon yelped and dropped the child. 

‘ _ Shit.’  _ Lyndon shot his head up. The larger beast surged forward. ‘ _ Shit! It’s fast!’  _ Honed reflexes shot him away. It’s heavy fist brushed by his face. ‘ _ Shit!’  _ Lyndon lashed out, leg striking a solid blow on the creature's midriff. The beast did not flinch. It swung and hit his shoulder. Pain surfaced. He brought his hands up and struck the beast’s stomach, driving high and firm. Musty air bellowed over him. The beast doubled over. Lyndon struck his knee forth, slamming the same location. A pained grunt rumbled in the beast's chest. Hands gripped his shoulders. Bone crushing force squeezed tight. ‘ _ Shit! Shit!’  _ He twisted and writhed. His legs lashed out and struck its knees. Lyndon did not move. The beast lifted its head, unphased. Lyndon gasped. ‘ _ Gamble! All or nothing!’  _ His left hand swung low, and a throwing knife sailed. A flash of steel hit the small Khazra, bleeding its thigh.

The small Khazra bleat, agony straining its voice beyond breaking. The one gripping him relaxed it’s grip and turned. Lyndon gripped two more throwing knives and stabbed the fiends arms. The blades scraped the beasts flesh. It grunted and dropped him. Lyndon backpedaled, desperately falling back. The larger beast scooped up its spear, fallen from the little one’s grip. ‘ _ Course it brought daddy his spear!’  _ The beast cocked back his arm. Lyndon readied his knife, aiming at the child. “Ah! You know I’m accurate! You put that down!”

The beast's eyes flicked between the knife and the mewling cur. It slightly relaxed its arm. The spear still aimed at him. ‘ _ No telling how accurate that thing is.’  _ Lyndon stepped back. The beast raised the spear slowly. “No! You stay still!” It’s left hand slowly came up and pointed firmly at its own colored horn.

Lyndon scowled. “Of course! Of fucking course!” He brought forth the two small horns with his free hand. “You want em!? Fine! I just want out of here!” He tossed the horns at the large ones feet. 

Seconds passed. The large one’s eyes stayed locked to his. It lowered its arm. Lyndon backed up. The larger one remained perfectly still. Lyndon slowly moved behind a tree, and ran. A spear cut his leg, embedding in the ground nearby. His legs thundered, hammering the ground in powerful long strides. Blood seeped from his new gash. ‘ _ Never again! Not doing that ever again! Damned goatspawn wretches!’  _

  
He ran long and hard, far into the night. Above, the twin moons shone bright. Cool wind blew, rustling the trees. Blood spilled in the night, and wounds were closed and healed. Lyndon stopped hours later, gasping and reeling. The gash, partially clotted, tickled and tugged. Lyndon wiped his brow and panted. His lungs spasmed, tight and hot. He fished in his pouch, withdrawing a bandage roll. ‘ _ Least I got out. Hope the others did.’  _ Expert hands bound his wound. ‘ _ Nothing more I can do for them. Need to look after myself.’  _ He tied the bandage, pulling tight. ‘ _ Time to move.’  _ Air flowed in his lungs, and his pulse slowed. Lyndon stalked forward. His senses strained, observing every detail. ‘ _...and to figure out where the devil I am.’ _


	20. Chapter 20

Tagaan clutched his brother. Haazixan shook, young frame shaking and trembling. Daavi rubbed her sons back and muttered soft encouragement. Tiny whimpers shattered Tagaan’s heart. Daavansa knelt near their families fire pit, tending the stew brewing there. Tagaan hugged Haazixan, sorrow and rage shaking his body. “Hush...hush...Bato will be here soon…” His brother whined, pressing deeper into his embrace. Tagaan rubbed his hand against the bloody nub of his spirit horn. Haazixan flinched and cried out. Daavi glanced sharply. Tagaan withdrew his hand, and Haazixan quieted. 

Harsh pressure built in their family home. Tension and sorrow welled high.  _ ‘I just want his pain to go away.’  _ Tagaan pressed his forehead gently to his brother. ‘ _ Surely there is something I can do...surely…’  _ Short rumbles shook Haazixan’s chest. ‘ _ He is so hurt, and so scared…’  _ Daavi hooked her hands under Haazixan’s arms and gently pulled him away. The lamb twisted and latched to his mother. Tagaan leaned back, ears pressed back and low. ‘ _ I wasn’t even able to kill the bastard who hurt him and Veeni…’  _ Shame crushed him. Doubt worried away his heart. ‘ _...my spear missed...and the swine limped to safety…’  _ Tagaan rubbed his weary eyes. ‘ _...some heir I am…the son of the  _ mighty Nostomo _ , unable to kill the fiend that…that…’  _ His mind reeled, desperately seeking a word to describe the atrocity. ‘ _...that did... _ that _ , to my brother.’  _ He huffed quietly. Daavansa sat still and silent. Daavi muttered and held her lamb. The wind howled through the kin lands. 

Daavansa spoke, quiet and soft. “Dinner should be ready.” She stood, eyes distant. Her ears dropped low, tucked back in dreadful pain. “I am not hungry.” She walked to their home's entrance. “I will be outside if I’m needed.” The cloth rippled in her departure.

Daavi relaxed her grip, setting the boy on the floor. “Do you hear that, Balam?” She gently rubbed his body horn. “Your sister made dinner. Would you like to eat some?” Haazixan whimpered, and flicked his ears forward. Daavi set him down. The young boy whined softly, sitting between his family. Shame and sorrow wrenched Tagaan’s heart. ‘ _...if I was faster…’  _ A ladle of the savory stew filled a bowl. ‘ _...If I was wiser…’  _ His mother returned, handing her son the bowl. ‘... _ If I was  _ stronger…’ He clenched his fists. ‘ _...he would be fine. His innocence would not be...lost…’  _ Tagaan’s stomach sunk. Heavy. Hungry. Roiling. ‘ _ Bah. I’ll not eat tonight. Wouldn’t keep it down anyway…’  _

Haazixan sipped his stew. The flame crackled. Smoke spiraled skyward. Daava sat near her young son. She laid a hand on his shoulder. Haazixan leaned into her, eating his dinner slowly. Tagaan hid his snout, hands covering his shame. ‘ _...skewered elk at fifty paces, but couldn’t hit a human…’ _ Haazixan ate. Daavi clicked her tongue. Tagaan lifted his muzzle. “You should eat, Tagaan.” He lowered his head. “Please. Brooding solves nothing.” She stood, squeezing Haazixan’s shoulder. A second bowl filled. Daavi knelt near Tagaan, and held the bowl before him. Her voice lowered. “Please, don’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could do.” 

Tagaan heaved a sigh. An arm tiredly accepted the bowl. “...But there was, Mother.” He gently swirled his bowl, sloshing the fluid within. “I was  _ there _ . Only...too  _ late _ ! I saved the other two children, but not my own brother.” Stillness fell over him. “...If I was just a little faster…”

Daavi ran her hand along his back. “Oh Tagaan...you save two lambs and lament over the two you did not?” Pressure accompanied her hand. She rubbed gentle circles, easing the tensed and worn muscle. “You truly are your father’s son.” Her arm continued its rhythm. “Please though...don’t ruminate on this. Focus on the safety and joy you brought two other families.” She stopped and enwrapped him. “Two other children, with stories of the heroic chieftain to be, dashing in and saving them.”

Tagaan leaned his head over, resting it on his mother. “I...I am glad I saved them. And at least saved the  _ lives _ of the ones I failed.” Haazixan crawled over and worked his way beneath Tagaan’s arms. Tagaan enfolded him.

Haazixan clung to his fur. His tremors subsided, and he rubbed his head along Tagaan’s chest. “You didn’t failed. Please stop being sad.” His voice drifted out, muffled by his brother’s chest.

Daavi huffed a laugh. She reached and rubbed her young sons back. “Your brother speaks wisdom, son of mine.” Tagaan looked away. A spark of relief warmed him. “Don’t you look away from me,  _ mighty warrior _ .” She gently gripped his snout and turned his head. Her ears perked high and back in concern. “We tell the truth, my son. You have not failed.” 

Haazixan muttered soft agreement. Tagaan rocked his brother, lulling the boy to sleep. Daavi readjusted herself. Tagaan lowered his voice. “I...thank you, Bano.” She released his snout and leaned against him. “But...someone must be at fault, no?” His ears flicked tiredly.

Daavi flicked her ears forth. “Yes. There is. The human.” She wrapped an arm around Tagaan. “He is the one who did this. You did your best to fix it.”

Their homes entrance fluttered, and Nostomo walked in. Rage held every muscle taut. Deathly calm colored his soft brown eyes. He quickly surveyed their home and huffed quietly. Speaking soft and low, he approached Daavi. “Haazi...he is alright? I heard…”

Daavi stood and embraced Nostomo. “He is fine, beloved.” The chieftain sagged and returned his mate's embrace. “Tagaan heard the alarms, and noticed Haazixan’s absence.” The graying mare chuckled deep. “Your mighty warrior tore out with such speed...He found Haazi and his friends. But...” Nostomo tensed and pulled back. “The human had already cut Haazi and Teevi’s…” Shudders wracked her. “The human, it…” She leaned into him. “...It cut off their spirit horns…”

Nostomo’s ears shot back. “ _ What?” _ Harrowed fury dominated his voice. “Their…”

Daavi flicked her ears in assent, nausea drooping them. “From what we know, he did not even have purpose. He merely took…” 

Nostomo quivered, anger shaking his foundations. “...where is this human’s skull? I wish to piss on it.” His gaze met Tagaan’s. “Burn it. Break it. Set it as a warning.”

Tagaan ducked his ears and head. “I...I did not kill the human, father.” Nostomo stepped back. Surprise clenched his ears and widened his eyes. “I missed my throw, and the bastard ran away.” Daavi whispered firmly in Nostomo’s ear. The elder ram snorted. He shook his head. Anger loosed. Nostomo breathed deep. His breath fell under control. 

“I…” Nostomo cleared his throat and stamped his hoof. “I am proud of you Tagaan.” Elation surged in the young ram. “You saved your brother, and his friends.” Tagaan’s ears pulled up. “It would have been better if you slew the human…” Shame crushed him. “But! But you did a noble thing. An act worthy of chieftain.” Tagaan lifted his head, and met his father's eyes. Nostomo flicked his ears forth. “You make me proud Tagaan.”

Relief and triumph surged. Tagaan lost control of his breathing, drawing swift and shallow breaths for several seconds. He flicked his ears forth. “I...thank you father. Rika has the horns, and…”

Nostomo pushed forward, breaking Daavi’s grip. “You  _ saved  _ their horns!?” His father clapped his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “And yet still you weep? No! This is excellent! Heroic!...” Daavi pinched his neck and gestured to Haazixan’s sleeping form. Nostomo lowered his voice, chagrin pulling his ears forward and low. “Sorry. I did not see him there.” His hand squeezed again. “I am proud, Tagaan. So proud. You have done a truly heroic thing.” 

Daavi visibly relaxed, and exhaled. Tension bleed into exhaustion, and she walked around Nostomo. “Your father is right, balam.” She patted Tagaan’s spirit horn and wandered to her bedroll. 

Tagaan looked aside and flicked back his ears. “...If only the human did not flee...if only I could make him face justice…”

Nostomo huffed and sat beside him. “Who is to say you cannot? I have heard no such declaration.”

“Tomo! Do not.” She hissed. Tension tightened her frame again. “Don’t you  _ dare _ encourage vengeance.” She flicked her ears back. Menace dripped from every word. “I hate them too, but don’t you tell your son to…”

Tagaan straightened his spine. “But why not?” Nostomo hunched back, rueful fear compressing him. “I have no duties! I am not chieftain, I could hunt the fiend down!” Daavi tucked her ears back. “...I could make them pay for what they did…”

His mother sighed heavy and low. “...You will only stir more trouble.” A shiver ran down her spine. “And they may kill you…” Tagaan huffed. “Silence, boy.” Tagaan stilled and leaned back. Shock bolted his ears high. “You are not invincible. Humans are deadly. If you fight them, you may die.” Sorrow wrenched her ears. “Can you not listen to your mother for once!? I almost lost a son today!” She flopped back and rolled away. “...Please don’t seek vengeance...please don’t take that risk…”

Tagaan whined. “Mother...don’t you want them to pay?” His voice trailed off, whispers along the wind. “To remove such a fiend from the world?...”

  
Daavi shook, grief wracking her. “Of course, Tagaan. But to do so…” She covered herself in her blanket. “You may die, Tagaan. Right after you saved my son, you may take my other…” Her ears flicked back. “I don’t want you to be hurt, balam. The children were hurt, yes...but can you not let this go?” Nostomo leaned back, shock pressing his ears tight. “I’m sorry for the blasphemy, but I  _ tire  _ of you coming home broken and battered…” Tagaan dropped his eyes, shame weighing his head. “I am so tired of you following this warrior path...Every cut you take is a wound on my heart. Every bone you break is a tear I shed. Every time you or your father leave, and I don’t know if you’ll come back...” Sorrow rent her calm and commanding voice. His mother paused. Cold wind flapped the entrance. Sorrowful laments, soft and distant, filled the kin lands. The moons shone down, bright and solemn. Nostomo gripped Tagaan’s shoulder. “Do what you must, my sweet balam. Do what your heart tells you. If that is to hunt the defilers and make them pay...” Strength returned to her voice, and she turned to meet his lifted eyes. “...Then bring them death, my son.”


	21. Chapter 21

Tagaan inhaled, filling his chest with the morning air. Tovo stirred right of him, the gray ram adjusting his kneeling position. Tagaan glanced left. Yooboen breathed deeply, breath well controlled and steady. ‘ _ It is good I am not alone. My heart weeps that only Teevi’s grandsire and uncle can seek justice with me.’  _ Tagaan lifted his snout, exhaling the clean morning air. Humor tugged his ears. ‘ _ How her father raged and swore when his mate denied him the chance.’  _ Reality weighed back down. ‘ _ I am glad that so many of her family cannot risk such a thing...that only two are free of attachment…’  _ Songbirds trilled above. Insects chirped lilting melodies. An elk called in the mountains. ‘ _ Peace...peace before war…’  _ Rika’s tent flap opened. The venerable shaman clopped to the three kneeling warriors, bearing a large pot and three stone cups. Tagaan’s stomach churned. Anxiety perked high. ‘ _ I have never taken the Warrior’s Blood…’  _ Teveeni exited the shaman’s hut, clutching several satchels. Tagaan tilted his head, gazing firmly to the ground. ‘ _ No time to gaggle…’  _ Rika stepped back, entering her hut. 

Teveeni knelt across from the males and opened a satchel. She withdrew a pungent bunch of pine needles, blood red and dripping sap. ‘ _ Kaahtaah, father called it.’  _ The scent of wildberries and sap laden blood assailed him. ‘ _ The blood of the warrior...the plant of the berserker…’  _ Rika reemerged, carrying a pot of bubbling liquid. She grunted and tipped the boiling water into the larger pot. She set the empty item aside, and knelt near her apprentice. Teeveni dropped the herbs in the steaming water, and Rika spoke. “Honored kin…” She dipped her head. “You stand before me, and ask for the Blood of the Warrior.” Teeveni leaned back and turned away. The broth simmered. “For what reason do you seek glory and death?” 

Tovo lifted his ancient snout, and huffed gently. “I would take vengeance on the bastard who cut my granddaughter’s spirit horn.” Rika raised her head, and pressed her ears forth. “...And failing that, I would die in battle against the humans, to spit back the hate they have given us.”

Rika flicked her ears forward. She dipped her head and opened another satchel. “Your reason is just, and your spirit true. I shall prepare for you the Warriors Blood, and cut from you your spirit.” Tagaan seized up. ‘ _ Wait...what!?’  _ Rika motioned her hand, waving Tagaan down. “I shall safeguard your soul until your victory, or your defeat. Do not fear if you fall in battle, for I ensure your return to the Cave of Elders.” Tagaan wilted and dropped his ears. ‘ _ Father skipped that part…’  _ Rika withdrew several bunches of Sennin, and plopped the medicinal red thistle in the simmering pot. ‘ _ That is much...enough for several healing salves…’  _ Rika looked to Yooboen, and gestured. “What is your reason for the Warrior’s Blood.” 

Yooboen looked aside, and gazed high. “I would kill the one who hurt Teevi. My niece deserves justice, and I am unattached.” Peace fell over him. “I have no mate. No children. I would not harm others by passing. If any must take a risk to bring the humans ruin, let it be me.” His gaze returned to Rika, and he held his ears calm and proud.

Rika lifted her ears and flicked them forth. “Your reason is just, and your spirit true.” She spoke soft and low. “I shall prepare for you the Warriors Blood, and cut from you your spirit.” Tagaan flicked his ears in approval. ‘ _ Well said...and honorable.’  _ Doubt washed over him. ‘ _ Why would such a man be without a mate?’  _ Tagaan looked over him. ‘ _ Calloused hands...wiry frame... ‘  _ His ears pulled back and flicked forth. ‘ _ He is strong and hardy...but I have never seen him hunt…’  _ recollection dawned. ‘ _ That is right...I have seen him tending to fields...he is a farmer. Is that why he has no mate?’  _

Rika clicked her tongue and spoke. “Tagaan. For what reason do you seek glory and death?” Tagaan stilled himself. Shudders wracked his body. ‘ _ Why...why do I do this…’  _ A hefty white glob entered the pot, along with several black mushrooms. ‘ _ Milk of the Poppy, and some mushroom…’  _ His mind idly noted. Tagaan breathed deep. ‘ _ It is not for glory…’  _ Guilt tugged his stomach. Shame weighed heavy. ‘ _ It is not for Haazixan. He would have me stay.’  _ Tagaan sucked his lips and dipped his chin. ‘ _ It is not for family or honor...I defended both…’ _

Tagaan lifted his muzzle and met Rika’s patient gaze. Tagaan swallowed. “I would take the brew to kill the human. He hurt my brother, and he escaped my wrath.” Tagaan clenched his hands. “He bested me, and escaped. The fiend  _ must _ die. He has not paid for his crime.  _ I  _ demand it.”

Rika fell silent. Teveeni brought forth a heavy pestle and stirred the simmering broth. Crimson lights danced within. The scent of blood and anger soaked rage steamed forth. Rika flicked her ears back. “I do not personally approve of your reason, but your spirit is true. I shall prepare for you the Warrior’s Blood, and cut from you your spirit.” Tagaan released the tension holding him firm. Several ears flicked. ‘ _ Good...I will not be denied…’  _ Teveeni crushed the broth. Horrid vapors spilled. Anger stirred. Muscles tensed and ears pulled back. ‘ _ Ancestors…just the smell…’ _

Rika stood and moved behind Tovo. A long, sharp knife emerged from her robes. Her left hand delicately gripped his spirit horn, and her right pressed the knife against his horn. Tovo breathed heavily. His ears flinched. His neck jostled. A brief whimper shook his throat. Glittering blue speckled over Rika’s knife. She pulled the knife forward. Steel cut horn. The magic swirled and severed it cleanly. Tovo cried out, and fell forward. His hands clutched the bleeding stub. Rika leaned over and whispered gentle words. A faint trail of green fell from her lips and wafted to the hurting elder. His stub sealed over and healed. ‘ _ The  _ physical _ pain is gone, at least.’  _ Rika took his horn in her hands, and reverently carried it within her hut. Tovo whimpered and fondled the nub. Tagaan gripped his shoulder. “It is alright, my kin. Your soul is safe.” Words rolled from his tongue, earnest and honest. “Anything that happens now is merely to your body.”

Tovo looked over, and flicked his ears forward. “I…” The elder ram dipped his head. “Thank you, youngling.” Rika left the hut, and knelt beside Tagaan. A gentle hand gripped the tip of Tagaan’s spirit horn. Panic surged. His limbs tensed. His breath hitched and his lungs spasmed. Rika’s other hand lighted upon his shoulder. ‘ _ Right…she is trying to help...you asked her to do this...she is trying to help…’  _ He flicked his ears forth. Rika’s hand moved and something pressed against his spirit horn. Tagaan seized. His body flinched. A whimpering bawl tore from his throat. He rapidly clenched and relaxed his palms. Terror welled high. Regret and anxiety warred, clamoring and writhing within. Agony exploded, and his head fell forward. Weight left his head, terrifying and wrong. ‘ _ My soul! My soul!’  _ Rika spoke gentle words in his ear. Panic dulled the sounds and rendered them meaningless. Soft tingles sparked over his panied nub. Soothing magics burrowed and healed, mending the spurting appendage. Tagaan heaved and coughed. His ears tucked tight, and whimpers shook him. Hands clasped his shoulders. ‘ _ I...just...so easily removed...I…’  _ Tagaan whimpered and dropped his head. ‘ _ My soul...my soul...gone…’  _

Rika knelt before him, and lifted his snout. Her kind, matronly eyes met his. “You are not lost, Tagaan. Remember what you just told Tovo. Your soul is safe.” The old nag rubbed his arms. “I will keep you, and protect your soul while your body fights.” She gripped his arms and squeezed. ‘ _ Right...she...I am not gone...only...temporarily separated...not gone…’  _ Tagaan flicked his ears stiffly. “I will keep you, Tagaan. Worry not. I have held many warriors in my time.” Tagaan met her eyes. She wiggled her ears. “And I have returned nearly all of their spirits to their bodies.” Tagaan flicked his ears. ‘ _ Of course...of course...it’s just ensuring I  _ don’t  _ fall, lost and alone…’  _ Rika squeezed and stood. Tagaan huffed and wrestled his panic. ‘ _ She is the shaman...she knows what she’s doing…’  _ Teveeni spoke words in the shaman’s tongue. Harrowing wisps of red and black gathered. Tagaan leaned back. ‘ _ The works of shaman…’  _ Her pestle glittered, gathering the errant wisps. The simmering broth roiled and spat. Yooboen called out, pained and hurt. Tagaan glanced aside. The other male hunched over, blood leaking between his fingers. Rika held his spirit horn, and whispered the same words of healing. The three males huffed and bleat, shuffling their legs and tenderly prodding their stubs. 

Rika left, entering her hut and returning several moments later. Teveeni removed the pestle, and stood. Rika flicked her ears thankfully and knelt. She produced the same knife that severed their horns, and held it in her open palms. “Honored warriors...soulless beings of our vengeance.” She dipped her head. “One reagent is needed to finish the Warriors Blood.” She paused. Birds trilled. The wind breezed by. Distant sounds of kin, working and living, reached their ears. “Your own blood, to offer the Ancestors. To prove your worth and intent. If you are worthy, they shall bless this potion, and you will become our rage.”

Tagaan stilled his breathing. Tovo leaned back and gazed high. The elder spoke, reaching out to the proffered blade. “I will be first. Let them not find me wanting.” Rika flicked her ears, and Tovo took the blade. Wisps of lingering magics flit along the blade. Tovo opened his left palm above the roiling cauldron. Steel glinted. The blade cut clean and deep, and the ancient blood poured below. The boiling liquid frothed. 

Yooboen opened his palm and reached it out. “I shall be next. I am not a warrior, but I can honor my family in this, at least.” His father pressed the blade in his palm, and flicked his ears forth. “Ancestors willing, I will avenge my niece.” Steel flashed, and blood poured. Seconds passed, and the new fluid pooled in the center. Yooboen leaned back, ears pressed tight. “I...that is not what happened to Tovo’s blood…”

Rika flicked her ears forth. “No. The ancestors deem you unworthy.” Her voice carried over the wind, soft and calm. Yooboen deflated, and clutched his head stiffly. The knife clattered on the stone floor. Tovo bleat softly. Teveeni approached Yooboen, and gently pulled him up. Whimpering cries fell from the males throat, broken and weak. “Enter my hut, and I shall mend you.” Teveeni guided him, whispering gently and squeezing his shoulder.

Tagaan pressed his ears back and flat. ‘ _ Unworthy...why? His heart was true…’  _ His right hand gripped the knife, and brought it to his eyes. Crimson lines dripped. Lifeblood fell, spattering his fur and waist-cloth. ‘ _ Why?...’  _ He opened his left hand, and slit a neat gash upon his palm. His blood pooled and simmered. The fluid dispersed, and the broth abruptly fell still. Rika flicked forth her ears. “The Warrior’s Blood is ready. Each of you, retrieve a portion.” Tagaan knelt forward and took up the stone cup before him. He met Rika’s eyes and flicked his ears cautiously. She lifted her hand and flicked her ears. Steeling himself, Tagaan dipped the deep cup in the broth. ‘ _ Fang of Norag! Blast! That stings…’  _ He lifted the cup, and his fingers trembled. Pin pricks of pain flushed along his hand, tingling and burning any flesh contacting the fluid. Tovo dipped and filled his own cup. “Find your foes, and partake of the Blood.” Rika lifted her hands and snout. “Bring ruin to our enemies.”

Tovo stood, and shook his head. Tagaan cautiously stood, working the stiffness from his legs. Rika stood and held her palm forward. “Farewell, Tagaan and Tovo. Find your vengeance.” 

Tovo brushed Tagaan’s shoulder, motioning to the woods. “Come. Show me where you last saw this human.”

Tagaan flicked forth his ears, and saluted Rika. “Farewell Shaman Rika. We will not fail.” Tagaan spun and trot. He held his cup steady, and focused his breathing. Tovo followed behind, hooves clopping firmly along. The pair moved through the wood line, entering the deep forests. “The place I wounded him was a small creek, one of me and my brother’s favorite spots.” Tovo huffed. “We’ll go there, and look for the bastard’s trail.”

Birds sung, uncaring and free. The wind sped up, cooling the active hunters. Tagaan entered the small glade. Rusted brown splotches stained the grass. Bile rose in his throat. ‘ _ Their blood, spilled from their small growing horns…’  _ Tagaan pushes forward, surging to where his spear still lay. Dried blood lead away, deep in the forest. Tagaan’s heart soared. ‘ _ I hit the fiend! We have a  _ blood  _ trail to follow!’  _ He pointed and glanced back. Tovo flicked his ears forth, and his eyes flashed approval. Tagaan took up the spear, and Tovo unsheathed his mighty ax. The pair stalked the woods.

A great distance away, a clearing opened before the hunters. The blood stopped beneath a large oak. Tagaan glanced about. ‘ _ No...no that’s not good.’  _ Fear and anxiety nibbled his core. ‘ _ He must have mended his wounds...Ancestors below, this is bad…’  _ Tovo approached the blood pool, and knelt. Tagaan approached, curiosity driving out fear. The elder scrutinized the small patch, and the glade around. 

Tagaan focused his gaze, looking for any tracks or trail. ‘ _ I cannot see anything…’  _ A small whimper built in his throat. Tovo abruptly pointed to their right. “Grass. Tread on recently.” The elder pointed further, indicating a small shrub and footpath. “Skinned branches on the right, where his wound hobbled him.” Tagaan glanced. ‘ _ Skinned? It seems like the rest…’  _ Tovo stood and moved right slowly, eyes sharp and focused. ‘ _ Well...I will not question his judgement.’  _ Humor bubbled, surfacing and falling quickly. ‘ _ He has hunt longer than I’ve lived.’  _ The pair passed through the brush. Tagaan focused intently on the ‘skinned’ bush. ‘ _...a branch broken…Several leaves yellowed and frayed upon the edges…’ _ . His eyes lifted and he trott forth. ‘ _ Going this way...we go towards a human clutch...it makes sense, I suppose.’ _

  
The pair followed, slowly and surely approaching a small human town. The evening wound by, and the sun dipped low. Songbirds quieted, and the clamor of insects rose. ‘ _ We are nearly there…’  _ Tagaan filled his lungs and slowly released them. The clamor of mannish speech drifted through the twilight. ‘ _ It is time…’ _ He glanced back. Tovo stood, and brought forth the thick cup. His eyes locked to Tagaan’s, and he flicked his ears forth.


	22. Chapter 22

Robert fidgeted, blinking heavy sleep away. ‘ _ Blasted...uhh…’  _ He stirred his right arm. Immediate pain halted him. A sharp hiss pulled through his teeth. ‘ _ Everything! Blasted everything!’  _ The open window above him blared, the morning sun bright and warm. Robert raised his left arm. Splitting agony shot through his body. He swiftly dropped his arm, panting and sweating against the pain. ‘ _ What the devil? What…’  _ Robert looked down his arms. Horror froze him.

An octagonal crystal, thumb sized and radiant silver, sprout from his bicep. Opposite the mineral, a smaller crystal struck from his tricep. ‘ _ I...what?’  _ He furrowed his brows and leaned back. A heavy blanket tucked to his shoulders, leaving his arms exposed. ‘ _ So...reckon I’m safe… but what under Heaven’s light is that!?’  _ Glinting light sparkled beneath the crystal’s surface. ‘ _ What?...’ _ Robert stared at it. ‘ _ I...did someone shove a rock in me?’  _ Words, unclear and distant, filtered through the window. A distant ringing of steel on steel reached him. His lips pursed. Cautiously, he moved his legs. The appendages rose and fell beneath the blankets enwrapping him. ‘ _ No pain...can still move em…’  _ He sighed. The crusader fell back and closed his eyes. ‘ _ Leastwise  _ that’s  _ something…’  _ Irritation built, warming his core. Robert fidgeted. His fingers twitched. ‘ _ Bedlocked…’ _ A quiet growl rumbled his chest. ‘ _ Nothin’ worsn’ bein’ bedlocked…’ _ He nibbled his lip. ‘ _ ’Sides a scolding, a course. Hate scoldings…’ _

Robert squirmed beneath the bedlinens. ‘ _ Scoldings...Mother!’  _ He pulled himself up, pushing his arms straight. Splintering pain rattled him. He clamped his teeth tight, hissing sharply. ‘ _ Mother looked okay...I saw her before I blacked out, and she looked okay.’  _ Sweat beaded his brow. Panic stirred his guts. ‘ _...but where is she now? Gotta find her. Gotta make sure she’s okay.’  _ Robert swung his legs out. A faint conversation seeped through the heavy wooden door. ‘ _ Gotta get up. Gotta make sure she’s okay.’  _ His body stirred, wrenching itself upright. Tremors loosened him, shaking his balance. A deep breath stilled him. ‘ _ Gotta get up.’  _ Painful sparks lit along his frame. He exhaled, willing himself to stoicism. 

The heavy door creaked open. Two figures entered, speaking quietly. A stranger, clad in a simple green gown, spoke to his mother. Worry creased her fine features. Horrible scars of blackened tissue ran along her throat, and his mother’s voice rasped hard and ragged. ‘ _ Light in Heaven...her throat…like burned and dead flesh…’  _ Kasalis’ eyes flashed and pinned him. She called out hoarsely, stumbling forward. “Robert!” Her arms caught him firmly and pressed tight. Horrid wrenching coughs ravaged her. Robert returned her hug. His hands gripped her tight, creaking and groaning in agony. “My Robert…” Tears spilled over the simple tunic covering him. HIs mother trembled. Searing pain burned his arms.    
  
Robert clenched his teeth and lowered his head, resting it on hers. “Mother…” He choked out. Stinging tears fell pooled, blurring his vision. “Oh Akarat be praised…” The stranger backed up, folding her arms and grinning. Kasalis shook. Robert released the strength in his arms, allowing the pained muscle relief. “Mother...my arms…”   
  
Kasalis jerked back. His arms bumped off, falling limp beside himself. She covered her mouth. A quiet mutter slipped through her lips. Her eyes hardened and she pointed sternly to the bed. The hand covering her mouth shifted to her throat, and gently rubbed it. She spoke again, loud enough for him to hear. “You should know better…” Hacking coughs stuttered her speech. Her eyes fluttered back to him. “...Getting out of bed when injured…” A mirthful sparkle, fueled by hope and relief, danced in their gleam. “Didn’t someone ever teach you better?”   
  
Robert exhaled. Tension sloughed from him, pouring away. “Aye...aye someone did.” His legs sagged. Pain dragged him down. His heavy frame shook the bed and he grunted. His arms pulsed, pain sprinting along. “Can’t really fault me...I was worried.” She grinned, and dropped herself against the doorframe. Silent chuckles rumbled her chest. Robert licked his lips and glanced along his arm. He furrowed his brows and flexed his right arm again. Shards of pain lanced his arm, originating and spiraling from the crystal. ‘ _ Guess that answers that…’  _ Robert grit his teeth and pushed his legs back, readjusting himself upon the bed.

A clear voice sounded. “It would seem you’ve seen your problem.” Humor lightened the strangers’ words. “Though I assume you’ve little idea what it is?” She approached, a small grin decorating her delicate features.

Robert frowned. He fidgeted his bulk, slipping deeper in the bed. ‘ _ Ah great…‘nother  _ smart _ folk, ready to tell me how dumb I am…’  _ His feet pushed out, stretching tension away. “No…No ma’am I don’t.” Bitterness simmered. “Jus’ a bumpkin. No smarts ta speak of.”

The woman quirked a brow and produced a flask. “No? No smarts to speak of?” She offered the leather to him. “Drink, please.” Robert took the flask and unstoppered it. ‘ _ Smells...floral?’  _ Several sips wet his throat. “Rose water. No medical benefit, simply refreshing.” The woman smirked and fished within her robes. “And really? You’re actually accepting your doctor’s orders, and listening to your mother.” Robert furrowed his brows and sipped more of the water. A deep grimace pulled his face. “Believe it or not, that is wisdom. Many I’ve treated would incessantly question and second-guess my advice.” Her hand beckoned Kasalis. “Would you kindly retrieve my surgical kit, dear? Large black bag, room on the left?” His mother twitched upright and nodded. She turned about and strode off. “Thanks dear.” Her gaze returned to Robert. “And the fact that you're not? Why, my dear boy, I do believe you’ve  _ some  _ wits about you.”

Robert leaned back, lips pursed and eyes wide. ‘ _ She talks a lot...don’t she?’  _ A heavy breath stilled him. A deep exhale relaxed him. “Well...I mean…” His right arm twitched, attempting to rub his neck. A bitter hiss split his teeth. “...If...ahh...that’s how ya judge it, then sure.” He grinned and consciously stilled his limbs. “I’m right good at takin’ orders.”

The woman shook her head. A silent chuckle lifted her eyes. “That is apparent.” She folded her arms. “Given that you’re agreeable, this shouldn’t take too long. A moment.” The woman turned and left.

Robert blinked. ‘ _ I...aye, alright.’  _ He frowned, huffing a sigh. ‘ _ I’ll be here, I ‘spose.’ _ Unease boiled up. ‘ _ I mean…’snot like I’m  _ going _ anywhere.’  _ Firm footsteps approached, and Kasalis reentered the room. She carried a hefty black leather bag. Rough rasps clawed her throat, and dark grimace marred her. The bag plopped at the foot of the bed, and she sat next to it. She turned and gripped Robert’s shin. Concern shimmered in her eyes. “I’m doing alright, mum.” Robert smiled, wide and genuine. “Jus’ some pain. Nothin’ I’ve not dealt with.”

Kasalis frowned. Disapproval laced her wispy voice. “Robby…” Fear nibbled his heart. ‘ _ Can barely hear her…’  _ She tightened her grip, squeezing his calf. “...You know well I don’t like it when ya talk like that.” She ruefully grinned. “Just ‘cause you’re tough doesn’t mean you  _ should  _ be hurting.”

Robert buzzed his lips, left arm twitching to wave her away. Agonizing sparks halted him. He grit his teeth and grinned. “Ah, pain’s not that big’a bother.” A cheerful glint sparkled in his eye. “Now...being bedridden?...” Kasalis smiled and whapped his foot. “...That’s what’s torture.”

His mother laughed. Hacking coughs quickly overtook her and Robert straightened in worry. Kasalis waved her hand, turning back with a grin. “...I’m…” A coughing fit wracked her. “...Ah...I’m just fine. Jus’ have to talk quiet.” She smirked, eyes bright and happy. “...And not laugh to much, a’course.”

Robert exhaled, tension and fear bleeding away. “Well then…” He paused and leaned back. Sharp pulses flashed in his arms. “I’m glad we got out’a that alright.” Kasalis slapped his leg. “What? We did.” Her eyes flashed menace. “...Yeah...yeah fine. We got out... _ alive.” _ She smirked and folded her arms. Robert huffed and instinctively flexed his arms, attempting to mirror her pose. Wrenching pain stopped him. Annoyance surged. ‘ _ Akarat’s Teeth! This is gettin’ right annoyin’.’  _ He smiled and shook his head, anticipating her worried glance. “Nothing to worry about. Just tried to move my arms…” His smile drooped. ‘ _ Just tried to move ‘em…’  _

The stranger briskly entered the small room. Her arms held a laden tray, several bottles poking up amidst herbs and bowls. Robert grimaced. ‘ _ Came back with the whole ‘pothecri…’ _ The stranger placed the tray upon his bed. Her hands deftly swept up the surgical bag, opening it and withdrawing several sharp looking implements. ‘ _ A scalpel, I think that one’s called...some strange lookin’ pliers...bandages, know what those are for...and...whatever the devil  _ that  _ is…’  _ A cold worry twisted his innards. The stranger spoke, firm and competent. “Thank you, dear.” She turned, addressing Robert. “Now, we need to get that Tiaff out of you.” She presented a bottle of milky fluid to him. “Drink up. I don’t imagine you want to feel what’s coming next.” Another bottle joined the first. “This too. I don’t imagine you want to  _ see _ what's coming next, either.”

Robert took the items, mouth working silently to form something coherent. ‘ _ I...Tiaff? Feel? See?’  _ He shook his head. “Ma’am…”

The woman immediately spoke, interrupting him while she withdrew more tools from her satchel. “Tesi, dear. My name is Tesi, not  _ Ma’am. _ ” A warm grin flashed his way. “Though I suppose you can call me whatever it is you wish.”   
  


Robert sucked his lips. A slow exhale calmed his jittering nerves. “Right...Tesi?” She nodded, and Robert cleared his throat. “Pardon me, but...what?” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “What are you saying? I… I don’t follow.”

Tesi tilted her head. “Where is it that I lost you?” She tapped the bottles in his hand. “And drink up, would you dear?” A smile and a laugh escaped her. “The sooner you’re snoring the sooner you can be out of here and back on the road.” 

Sunlight shimmered off the fine bottles. Robert stilled himself and breathed deep. He brought a vail to his lips and swigged the fluid. “Ah!” Several drops splattered the blanket. “That’s vile!”

Tesi hummed. “It’s opium, not sugar water.” She lifted a bowl of herbs, bringing forth a pestle and grinding them smoothly. “It’s addictive, so nature made it bitter.” Rhythmic scrapes filled the room. Strong herbal scents wafted. “Everyone would be suckling poppy, were it sweet.” A forlorn sigh rattled her chest. “Some do anyway, bitter as it is.” She met his eyes again. “Regardless, I believe you were asking for an explanation?”

Robert attempted to cover his mouth, sputtering several more coughs. “Right...course…” Several quiet seconds passed. He cautiously relaxed and leaned back. “Right...the uh…” His brows furrowed. “Wha’d you call it...Tay-phf?” He shook his head lightly. “What does that...what is that?”

Tesi cocked her head. Her hands stilled. “What is it?” She pursed her lips. “Well now, there is the question, hmm?” The bowl settled down and she looked over the supplies. Robert gulped the second vial down. ‘ _ Just as bad…’  _ Her hands twitched and she glanced back to him. “Ah, thank you dear. You’ll be asleep in no time. Now, to your question.” She folded her arms and faced him fully. “There are several theories as to what Tiaff is, but no firm law of the sort. One theory holds that Tiaff is physical magic…”

Robert spoke up. “Magic? What? Why would I have magic in me?”

Tesi tutted, wagging her finger. “Now now, not polite to interrupt.” A wink completed her grin. “I’ll explain. Might as well, while the narcotics kick in.” She smoothed the bedsheets and plopped herself upon them. “Now...as I said, there are a few theories as to what Tiaff is. The first is as I said: Physical magic.” Chuckles shook Kasalis. Robert grimaced. ‘ _ Womens always tellin’ me to be quiet…’  _ He exhaled softly. “The second commonly accepted theory is that Tiaff is the body’s natural response to magic.” A thoughtful rumble shook his throat. ‘ _ All ‘bout magic, huh?’  _ Tesi glanced aside. “The third theory is that Tiaff is nothing but crystals, created by the usage of magic.”

Robert jerked upright. “Crystals!?” He twitched his arm. “Like that little sod cuttin’ in my arm?”

“Not  _ like _ , dear.” Tesi chuckled, lounging back. “If I am not mistaken, then that is a silver Tiaff crystal growing from your arm.”

“Wait…” Cold dread boiled up. “ _ Growing?” _

Tesi smiled, wide and mischievous. “Growing. See, Tiaff happens when magic happens.” She inspected her nails. A frown marred her features. Her other hand dug a small bit of dirt from under her thumb. “That, is something that is known. Two other general truths are known about Tiaff: One is that the color changes with changing types of magic. Two, is that Tiaff  _ enhances _ the magic of its color.” 

Drowsiness built in Robert. His words began to slur. “So...this little...white? Crystal?”

Tesi stood and stretched her petite frame. “Silver, is the term the Colleges use. And yes, that chunk of silver Tiaff will empower any faith spells channeled through it.” Tesi approached and pat his brow. “Every color is a different magic type, if I recall. I remember Silver is holy, and purple is arcane.” Her voice trailed off. “Green is nature magics....I think.,.” Robert closed his eyes, suddenly deeply tired. A heavy yawn escaped him. “And I think blue is...spiritual? Ghost?” She shook her head. “Can’t quite remember... Anyway, yes. That crystal empowers faith magic, and is associated with faith magic.” A slow, drousing snore rumbled Robert’s chest. “Yes! Right! Blue  _ is  _ spirit magics. Just remembered.” 

Tesi chuckled and brought forth her scalpel. “Scientific droll works wonders as an anesthetic, hmm?” 

Kasalis nodded and stood. A dull ache built through her arms. Stretching the pained limbs, she spoke in her quiet tone. “Aye.” She gripped Tesi’s shoulder. “When you spoke of this...Tiaff…” Tesi nodded, grabbing the bandages and a length of thick rope. “Were you speaking the truth?”

Tesi cocked her head. Her deft hands tied a firm knot near Robert’s shoulder. “What reason would I have to lie?”

Kasalis smirked and folded her arms. “True...but I gotta wonder…” Her head tilted towards the ceiling. “Why’s he got one and I don’t? I’m damn sure I’ve used more...Faith? Magic than him.” She rubbed her neck. “Why haven’t I had to worry about em?”

  
Tesi levered Robert’s arm straight. The silver crystal glint in the sun. Several thin lines of blood trailed down. “Well...if I had to guess, it would be that you have used your magics in a more long-term sense.” She gripped her scalpel lightly and incised a line above the jutting stone. “As far as I remember, Tiaff functions almost like a muscle. The more it’s used, the more is made. I’m sure if I cut you open I’d find your bones  _ littered _ .” She placed the scalpel down and grabbed her pliers. The steel tool gripped his flesh and held it open. Blood oozed freely, slowed by the drugs within and the rope above. “He, on the other hand, is using tremendous amounts in a  _ short _ period. Not evening it over his body.” She cocked her head. “...Think of it...like tearing a muscle. But magically.” Her eyes locked back to her task. “Used too much force, too quickly. Body overreacted. Didn’t have time to become accustomed. Anyway, that’s my guess.” Kasalis nodded. Her hand rubbed her throat. ‘ _ Too much...too fast…’  _ Tesi continued her surgery, grabbing a bottle of strong smelling spirits and placing it nearby. ‘ _ That does sound like him…’ _ Tesi spoke and pointed to her left. “Would you be a dear and hand me that towel?” Kasalis spurred into motion. The sudden intake of air scratched her throat, and a coarse cough tore through her. ‘ _ Damnation! Every time I move!’  _ A deep grimace marred her visage. She grabbed the towel and handed it over, mouth tucked tightly in her shoulder. Tesi accepted the towel, muttering a soft thanks. ‘ _ This...this isn’t good...it’s not healing…’  _ Her fingers rubbed her throat, soothing the savaged flesh. ‘ _ What the devil was that necromancer?’  _ Anxiety simmered in her stomach. ‘ _ What was that... _ cold... _ fog? And some nonsense about the  _ new balance _?’  _ Tesi grabbed a small hammer and chisel. Kasalis’ stomach churned, and she turned away. ‘ _ Those priests of Rathma were always wierd...but this?’  _ A steady, dull chipping filled the room. ‘ _ Whatever it is…It’d be best to avoid it. Let the priests sort out the priests.’  _ Tesi hummed quietly, the strikes of her chisel punctuating her rhythm. Bile stung her throat. ‘ _ Aye. Best to avoid it. Got a son to look after, after all.’ _


	23. Chapter 23

Dull throbbing pain dragged Robert’s eyes. ‘ _ Akarat...ow…’  _ Uncomfortable pulses traveled his arms. ‘ _ Ow...ow…’  _ He forced his eyes open, grogginess weighing him tremendously. ‘ _ What on...where…’  _ He blinked, looking around the room. A bed sat in the simple room, and a window peeked in. ‘ _ Right...right was talkin’ bout magics...with some green woman?’  _ He pulled his right arm. Sparks of agony shot through him, jolting wakefulness. ‘ _ Bloody! Rotten! Ahhh!’  _ A long, loud hiss flew through his teeth. ‘ _ Right. The arm, and that rotten  _ Tiaff  _ nonsense…’  _ He glanced hatefully. A heavily stitched scar line poked above his bicep. ‘ _ What the...it’s gone?’  _ He furrowed his brows. ‘ _ Where’s it gone?’  _ His gaze flicked about. A long line of shallow scars traced along the entirety of his left arm. ‘ _ Oh...oh that’s just great…’ _ He finished his scan. A slumped form caught his eye.  _ ‘Mother!’  _ A deep and relieved exhale rattled him. ‘ _ Good...good…’ _ He squinted. ‘ _ But...why’s she sleeping there? Foot of the bed? Bugger that.’  _ Robert pushed himself, arms aching. ‘ _ Blast…’  _ His teeth clenched. He drew a ragged breath and stood. ‘ _ Blast! Blast…’  _

Robert waddled, feet puttering along. Sharp pains retreated. Dull aches filled him. Robert leaned over and tapped her shoulder. Kasalis jerked, gripping the flail beside her. Her head whipped about and her eyes locked on him. Tension immediately fell. Kasalis yawned and placed her flail beside the bed. She rubbed her eyes and whispered. “Good morning, sweetling.” She glanced over him. “Why are you out of bed? The doctor said you should be in bed for several days.” Her eyes narrowed. “And she said  _ not  _ to heal yourself.”

Robert huffed and dropped next to her. “I’m up cause  _ you _ should be in bed.” He folded his arms. Pain yapped from his scars. “I mean…” Kasalis pushed his shoulder. A scowl tugged his mouth. “Don’t ya start shovin’ me. I’m right an’ you know it.” Kasalis met his stubborn gaze. “You’re hurt too, and you know damn well I’m not gonna sleep on a bed while your sleepin’ on tha ground.”

Kasalis rubbed her throat. “You should be in bed, Robby.” Menace simmered in her sapphire eyes. “And We’re not swapping places. That’s final.” She nodded with conviction.”

Robert slung his aching right over her shoulder. A lazy smirk crossed his features. “We’ve had this conversation before, mum.” He squeezed, relishing the dull pain. ‘ _ Worth it. No question.’  _ His head leaned against hers. “And, if I ‘member right, I always win this one.” Kasalis flicked his shoulder. “Nope. Not gettin’ out of it. I’ll make the arguments again if’n I hav’ ta.” Her head shook against his. “Good. Don’t like goin’ through tha’ whole ‘all you’ve done for me’ ramble.” A content sigh deflated his chest. “Now comon, up ya get.”

Kasalis wrapped her left around him. “No…” Her voice wisped out, rough and quiet. “No, I’m not really tired. Been sleepin’ well these past few days.” Robert blinked, pulling back. “Aye...you’ve been out two days now. This would’a made a third.” 

His left slowly rubbed his neck. ‘ _ Hmm. Two days out, hmm? Surgery must be tough.’  _ He snuggled back into Kasalis. “Well...alright mum.” A deep breath filled his lungs. He exhaled and buzzed his lips. “Don’t ‘spose you  _ have _ to sleep if you’d rather not.” He pressed his nose into her hair. “But I’d still like ya to go lie down.” Kasalis huffed. “Really, I would.” His left cautiously reached to her neck. “This…” His fingertips brushed the blackened tissue. A reflexive twitch pulled her back. She exhaled and leaned back into him. Robert tenderly rubbed her throat. “This just doesn’t look good, mum. Can’t help but think ya should be in bed…”

Kasalis opened her eyes and met his. Grimness blighted her features. “It...it isn’t good Robby.” Her words rumbled his fingers, light and comforting. “Bed rest...it might help. But…” A shudder wracked her. “I...I don’t think this will heal, sweetling.” Robert hissed a sharp breath. “Me and the Doctor have tried just about everything. Holy Light...healing potions and salves...even tried one of those Umbaru priests.” She chuckled softly.

Robert tilted his head and quirked a brow. “Umbaru? I haven’t heard of ‘em.”

Kasalis nodded slowly. “Aye...Umbaru. Called himself a Witch Doctor. Dark skinned. Strange golden loops through his ears and nose. A very nice and polite man for a heathen. But that’s not the important part...” She shuddered. Her right hand gripped Roberts left. “Something was very eerie about that man… He…” A shiver ran down her frame. “He performed a ritual for me. Just entered and offered the other day…” Her eyes trailed off, glancing into yesterday. “Kept talking about this…’unformed land’, and my connection to it. Set a few candles out, and entered a trance. I remember the feeling well...like someone was looking at my grave, and watching me from beyond all at once.” The sun peeked through the window. Slow and steady, the city roused itself to life. “And...when he snapped out…” Kasalis looked away. “When he snapped out...Akarat’s Teeth...he sounded so  _ certain  _ when he said it…” Her words trailed off, voice dying completely.

Robert tipped her head back. He met her eyes and grinned. “What’d he say, mum? Can’t be that bad, surely.”

Harrowed fear burned her eyes. Robert shrunk back, returning his arm and rubbing the back of his neck. “It was, Robby. He said...he said…” A painful and deep swallow cleared her gullet. “He said...my spirit was attacked. That he could do nothing, that something tried to sever my connection to his ‘unformed land’...that they were partly successful...that this damage was permanent.” Kasalis shivered. Palpable dread hung heavy upon her. “Mind, I don’t believe him about that unformed land, but...the way he said it...and it truly  _ felt  _ like an attack on my very soul.” Kasalis rubbed her throat, drawing inward. Robert squeezed her, gently massaging her shoulders. A faint whisper trailed from her ravaged throat. “...At least, he said you’re mending well. Recommended bloodletting. Something about proof to the spirits...willingness or some other.”

Robert kissed her brow. “Now...now now mum.” He traced simple patterns on her back. “S’just the ravin’s of a heretic. Nothin’ to twist yer girders over.” He gripped her shoulder. “We’ll get you fixed up…” Worry harried his gut. “Don’t you worry none. We’ll get you right patched up, mum.”

Kasalis laughed softly. Her chuckles swiftly devolved, wracking coughs echoing from her lungs. “No, sweetling. No…” She tousled his hair. “I already told you, nothing is healing it.” Her head leaned against his chest. Robert whimpered within his mind. ‘ _ She’s lookin’ so small...mother shouldn’t look so fragile…’  _ Terror seized his heart. ‘ _ By the Heavens Above...permanent? How will she travel...how will she keep training me?’  _ His arms enwrapped her. ‘ _ How’s she gonna keep crusadin’?’  _ Cold fingers trailed his bones. Horror licked his guts. ‘ _ Are we finished? Do we have to forsake our vows?...’  _ Tremors shook the sturdy man. 

A hand stroked his chin. Robert met his mother’s eyes. “Don’t fret sweetling.”

Dreadful pressure built behind his eyes. Robert spoke, voice clogged upon his sorrow. “Mum... you can’t fight with that...can you?” A soft roll of her head confirmed his fear. “I...what are we gonna do? I…mum…”

Kasalis fell still. Her mouth opened and closed. A strong hand gripped his shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. “I can’t be a crusader any longer, Robby.” Tears beaded her eyes. Her voice held firm but quiet. “It...what do you wish for us to do?” She pulled back. Her legs tucked beneath her. She knelt and gripped one of his palms. “I...I want you to have what you want, Robert.” Her hands clasped over his, squeezing gently. “I...You’re my son, Robby...I” Dry cries rumbled her strong chest. “I...just...please don’t break your vows because  _ I  _ must lay them aside.” Robert leaned forward, cupping her face. Her hands gripped his. “Please...only stay if…” Tears fell, streaking her face. “Only if...only if that is what you want. Don’t...don’t stay just because of me, Robby...Please…”

Silence filled the small room. Robert leaned forward, dropping his hands to hug her firmly. “Mother...I would never leave you!” Spasms shook his frame. “Even...even just suggesting...no!” He dug his head into the crook of her neck. “I won’t leave you, mother! Not for the Light, not for a woman, not for anything!” Tears soaked her simple tunic. “I won’t!” Robert shook his head, jarring hers about. “I love you, mother! You saved me…” His left hand stroked her hair. “...Just a little farm boy, from some Light-Forsaken corner at the edge of nowhere!” Robert leaned back, boring his eyes into hers. “You raised me...you taught me manners and how to fight…” A sob choked his voice. “...You loved me, even though I’m not your own. Gave me a mother, mum…” Robert dipped his head. “I...I just...you’ve given me so much, mum…” Weariness drug him down. “Don’t ask me ta just  _ leave _ you…I can’t!”

Kasalis lifted his chin. “Robby…” Strength fled her. She pressed her forehead to his. “I’m  _ not _ asking you to leave, Robby.” A smile broke her lament. “My dear sweet boy…” Her thumbs rubbed his cheeks. Kasalis stopped and breathed deep. Her exhale brushed by his face, warm and slow. “I’m asking you to do what you  _ want _ Robert.” She dropped her hands, cupping his right. “If what you want is to forsake your vows, then that is what I want.” Her fingers tightened on his. “But if you still  _ want _ to be a crusader...if you still  _ want  _ to live that life we’ve led…” Her teary gaze met his. “Then I  _ don’t _ want you to stay. Please, Robby...trust me on this.” A smile lifted her worn visage. “I’ve had time to think on it. A lot of time.”

Robert leaned back, readjusting his legs beneath himself. “I...I want to be with you, mum. I don’t mind giving’ up a few things for that.” He grinned, desperate and fearful. “I can give up that! I don’t needa be a crusader!”

A chuckle rumbled her chest. “Robby...don’t you hear yourself?” Mirth sparkled within her eyes. “Give up? Don’t need to be?” Tremors shook her smile. “Means you  _ do  _ want this life.” She released his hand. Her left trailed up his arm. “It’s a choice you're making, sweetling. You want both…” A gentle squeeze soothed his shoulder. “Robert...I…” She fell silent, pursing her lips and gazing into his eyes. “You...Robert you would grow so bored if you stayed with me.” Another grin grew over her. “Why, I think just a while back you said something about ‘being in a tavern is boring’, and that ‘you feel  _ alive _ in combat.’” Robert dropped his head. ‘ _ I...I just...mother…’ _ Thoughts thundered by. “Please Robby. I will be okay.” He lifted his gaze, brows furrowed and drawn. “Really. I’ll be okay.” Her smile grew soft and sad. “And I’ll always be around, sweetling. Just because I need to settle down doesn’t mean I’m suddenly gonna stop existin’.” A humorless laugh breezed through her. “Kids leave their parents all the time, after all. Just apart a’ life, sweetling.” He gripped the back of her neck and drew her head forward, ducking his own. Their foreheads clacked lightly together. “Ah now, it’s okay Robert…” Hot stinging fluid seeped from his eyes. ‘ _ I...but...I don’t want to be alone…’ _ A weak sob choked him. Kasalis stood forward, enfolding him gently. Her hands traced his back, strong and soothing. Robert kissed her hair.  _ ‘But...alone...mum…’  _ His arms clutched her. ‘ _ I’ve...but…’ _ Kasalis whispered near his ear. “It is alright. You can continue the crusade…” Robert broke, sobs wracking him freely. “I’ll always be here…”

Robert pulled back, holding her shoulders. “You’ll…” Hope strengthened his voice. “You’ll always be here? You swear?” Desperation coiled him. Fear tightened his heart. “Anytime I want to come back, I can? You swear it?”

Silence welled. Kasalis bit her lip and furrowed her brows. “Y...I...Yes.” She nodded firmly and slowly. “I swear I will settle down, and that you may visit me any time you wish.” She glanced to the simple window. “Though...it will not be here. I will likely journey to Westmarch, and find a place there to live.” She smiled, wistful and soft. “My family visited there once. Was a lovely little port town. I loved the view from the inns…”

Robert dropped his left, swinging about his right to enfold her. “Well...uh…” He sniffled. “I ‘spose...if your…” His left rubbed his eyes, removing the excess moisture. “I ‘spose if yur gonna be in one place…” Restless energy bubbled through him. “If yur...yeah.” He nodded faintly. “I...I still want to be a crusader.” His words trailed off, tentative and fragile. “If I can find you again...yeah. I still want to be a crusader.”

A quiet laugh breezed by his ear. “I thought you would…” Warm lips kissed his brow. “My dear sweet boy…” The room fell quiet. Robert leaned into her. Her left enwrapped him, squeezing gently. ‘ _ I...so long as I can still find her…’  _ Robert looked out the window. “Don’t worry to much sweetling. You are ready, I’m sure.” A huff rattled his chest. “I know you don’t feel it, but your nineteen, Robby. You're strong, and brave, and clever.” Robert rolled his eyes. ‘ _ Not really…’ _ Kasalis tut, shaking her head. “And don’t you dismiss that. It’s true. You are clever.” He clenched his jaw. “Just impulsive. You don’t think things through, is all.”

Robert flexed his arms, relieving the tension pulling them. “Alright...alright…” He squeezed his right, hugging Kasalis tight. “Thanks mum…” Worry gnawed his innards. “But...but I’ve never traveled by myself...never had to look after myself…”

A hand tugged his chin, drawing his focus to her. “Robert.” She spoke clear and soft. “Robert listen to me: You have lived with me for thirteen years now. We’ve endured great hardship and survived. You know how to survive. You know how to travel.” A rueful grin spread over her. “After all, I’ve been teaching you this whole time.” She rubbed his shoulder, dropping her head and leaning aside him. “We will just need to get you outfitted. You’ve already got a shield and chainmail, just need to resize my plate for you, and find a gem cutter for those crystals…” 

Robert nudged her, interrupting her flow. “Your plate? But mum…” Worry drew his brows together. “But won’t you be needing it? And the crystals? A gem cutter?”

Kasalis chuckled and rocked him gently. “Oh no...I can’t fight, remember? Might as well get it resized you you. That armor’s made to be altered. Gotta suit whoever holds the mantle.” Her movement stilled. “And the crystals...aye. They enhance channeling. So we need to cut and insert them in your armor. Help keep you safe an’ strong.”

Sunlight beamed through the simple window. Robert glanced aside, mind racing towards the future. “I’ll...I’ll be a true crusader…” A warm grin pulled his sturdy features. “...An honest to heaven crusader...A warrior ah the light...A bringer ah justice and righter ah wrongs…”

Kasalis hummed, joy and worry warring within. “Aye. You will Robby. You will be Kasalis.” He stiffened. “Aye. You’re ready sweetling. You’re ready to don the mantle. To bring glory and redemption to our name.” She dropped her head, worming into his shoulder. “I know you can do it, Robert...You are Kasalis now.”

Robert rubbed his jaw, pains long forgotten. “I...I will be...I am…” Fiery determination ignited in his eyes. “I will, Mother. I  _ will _ find our redemption. I swear it.” 

A happy laugh shuddered them. It quickly deteriorated, stifling coughs subsuming it’s place. Kasalis whapped his shoulder, smile beamin. “...Don’t be so serious, Robby.” She stood and stretched herself. “It's just a lifelong commitment. Nothin’ serious.” Robert chuckled and stood. “Not like yur signin’ yur entire life to an inpossible goal.”

Robert rolled his shoulders. “Aye...not like that ‘tall. I’m jus’ goin’ on a crusade.” His neck rolled and stiff muscle relaxed. Anxiety bubbled up. “Jus’ goin’ off to the world to find us some redemption.” A worry laden laugh spilled from him. “Why, I figures I should be back by nightfall!”

Kasalis leaned back, dropping lightly against the sturdy wall. “Now that’s the spirit. You’ll do me right proud, you will.” Her arms gently folded on themselves.

Robert lifted his gaze. “I will, mum. I swears that at least to you.” 

  
A hand gripped his shoulder. His smile turned to her. Kasalis squeezed gently.Tension bled from her. “Oh sweetling...” Robert quirked his brow. Serenity overtook her familiar features. ‘ _ She truly does look at peace...good. I’m glad.’  _ The anxiety roiling his guts waned. “You make me so proud, Kasalis.” Robert nodded, levity falling from his grin. ‘ _ I will  _ not _ shame this lineage I am given.  _ Never.’ She dropped her hand and flexed it. Her eyes traced over the strong and scarred appendage. “And I ‘spose...since you’re Kasalis now…” She righted her gaze and lifted her hand, extending it in greeting. A youthful joy sparkled in her misty eyes. “Please, sweetling… call me Nichole.” 


	24. Chapter 24

Harsh, smoky air tore through Tagaan’s throat. His eyelids blinked. Prickling pains consumed his body. Heavy ash, soot, and dirt may his ragged fur. Shapes swam in his unclear vision. A fragile whimper squeezed his throat. ‘ _ I...where am I?’ _ Tagaan flexed his legs. Deep, dull aches assailed him. ‘ _ Feels like...like I’ve been running for days…’ _ A sharp inhale punctuated his struggles. Coarse earth tickled his throat, and sooty ash clogged his nose. ‘ _ What is burning? I… I don’t remember…’  _

Tagaan groaned and brought his arms beneath him. ‘ _ Ancestors below...I hurt… should find Rika…’  _ A heavy shove righted himself. His knees caught his weight and Tagaan rested back upon them. His head swam. Tagaan moaned and gripped his horns, desperately attempting to steady himself. He gripped his body horn, and his left hand fumbled. Horror lanced him. ‘ _ What!? My spirit! Where is…’  _ Dull recollection rose. ‘ _ My spirit...in...in Rika’s safe keeping...because I…’  _ His hands fell lower and covered his hurting eyes. ‘ _ Because I...the brew…’ _ Tagaan whimpered. His ears pressed tight against his skull. ‘ _ The warrior’s blood...Haazi...humans…I was seeking vengeance…’ _ Tagaan lowered his hands. ‘ _ Tovo joined me…’  _ Vision crawled back. Tagaan scanned his surroundings, and horrid dread seized him.

Tagaan knelt in a flat path, many strides long and well traveled. Ash danced in the early morning air. Hollow beams of wood smouldered. Corpses slumped throughout the ruined hamlet. ‘ _ Humans...I...So many…’  _ Tagaan mewled and jerked back, snorting the clots from his nose. The old dry scent of spilt blood and rent organs overtook him. Tagaan wretched, hacking and coughing bloody bile. Weakness shook him. His left gripped over his pounding heart. ‘ _ So...death...all...I…’ _ His thoughts fragmented, splintering through his mind. Tagaan bleat a pitiful whimper, clutching his gut. His eyes traced over his body.

Rending channels of red and pale scars crossed his body. Three small holes seeped tacky crimson from his chest. His left leg shuddered and twitched, fur matted and bloody. Scratches and cuts decorated his arms freely. Faint morning light pierced the smoky cloud cover. Tagaan rubbed his arms, hunching deeply upon himself. ‘ _ The...pain...human...was…’  _ Ragged gasping whimpers broke through his throat. ‘ _ I was...we were...we, we...vengeance...hurt...humans...so much blood...’  _ More crimson bile pooled in his mouth. Tagaan pushed back, wrenching himself upright. His hooves scraped the ground, igniting a fresh pain. He glanced down, taking stock of his legs. An arrow jut from his left thigh, and several large gashes tore either one. His hooves caught upon pebbles, large cracks and chips upsetting his balance. ‘ _ I...but...I...so much…Tovo...Tovo!’  _ Adrenaline rose, stifling the deluge of hurts. He cast his unsteady vision about, desperately searching for the elder ram. Painful memories clawed the surface of his consciousness. 

_ Tovo, roaring and bellowing in the throes of ecstatic fury, rent an armored human asunder. Tagaan bleat joyous laughter, impaling a battling human upon his spear. Rapturous delight followed the spilling of human blood. A sword cut his back, gashing a terrible wound. Tagaan howled in delight, wheeling about and severing the slender woman’s neck. Joy, simple and pure, coursed with every strike. His back slowly stitched itself closed, the Warrior’s Blood potion working its awesome magic. His eyes cast about, seeking his kin. Several human men stabbed the elder’s back, prodding the mighty ram to the bloody earth. Shattering fury spiked in his blood. A dim part of his mind realized this anger originated beyond him. His mind retched beneath the vengeful onslaught, drifting behind his battle madness. His fingers cracked beneath his own pressure. Tagaan howled and dashed forth. _

Tagaan stumbled, crashing hard. His hands shot forth, brushing the dirt and rock. A corpse lay before him. The face of a young human boy stared unlinking to the sky. Sorrow and horror stained his face, and a gaping hole opened upon his chest. Tagaan lifted his gaze. The body of a young woman lay several strides away. Her head rested near his hands. ‘ _ I...they...I was...so much blood...so...so sure they were dangerous…’  _ A calm breeze blew by, drawing smoke through his lungs. ‘ _ They...they’re just...just children...ancestors...so much  _ blood…’ Vision unsteady, body trembling, Tagaan pushed to his hooves. ‘ _ Tovo...he was...there?’  _ Tagaan looked right, across the bloodied street.

Tovo lay, mangled and ruined beyond recognition. Two spears stuck his back, and several broken lengths of wood dot his old body. Blood and viscera spilt from once bright crimson channels, now dull and brown.  _ ‘Of course…’  _ Tagaan whimpered and rubbed his eyes. ‘ _ I saw him die…’ _

_ Tagaan flowed between the human’s clumsy strikes, fending the three away. The fiery potion within his veins flared, his adrenaline and determination to defend empowering him. Tovo grunted furiously, staggering upright beneath his numerous wounds. The chieftain’s son weaved and struck, avoiding clumsy spear strikes and lancing a human’s chest. The wounded man cried out and stumbled back. Blood soaked triumph washed Tagaan, and he pressed the assault. His spear flashed, and entrails hit the floor. His remaining horn surged, and a human skull cracked. Humans cried in agony and fear, and Tagaan danced to the macabre melody. He threw down his spear and seized the wounded human. Dull realization struck him. He held a young human. A very young human. Fur had yet to cover his chin. He recalled that humans did not grow much hair, but an adult male should have fur on his chin. A burning hatred seeped into his bones. Anger, rage, and malicious intent not of his making seized him. His hands jerked, and the human’s neck snapped. Bloodthirsty triumph snapped him around, seeking Tovo’s approval. Ruinous wrath replaced the foreign joy. Another human, clad in heavy metal, struck a sword across Tovo’s throat. His kin’s beautiful lifeblood stained the air. A human’s maul struck Tovo’s back, shattering a lodged spear and toppling the fearsome warrior. Tagaan swiftly assessed Tovo’s wounds, and concluded he could not heal from them. Cold, malicious hatred entered Tagaan’s mind. The small voice pleading for an end to the madness choked under the baleful miasma. A shattering howl broke his voice, and he surged forward.  _

Tagaan gently nudged Tovo’s body, desperately seeking a sign of life. Old, dried blood assailed his nose. Tovo’s eyes stared off, glassy and unfocused. Blood still oozed form the horrid wound nearly severing his head. Tagaan shoved himself back, crying loud and broken. ‘ _ Dead…no...my kin...blood...dead!’ _ Tagaan stumbled over a slumped human’s corpse, falling to his knees. His gaze trailed up, looking over the charred building. The armored human sat beneath a smouldering awning, crumpled and broken. The maul wielding man sprawled further away, terror locked forever upon his dead visage. 

_ Tagaan hurled forward, breaking the maul wielder's neck in a single charge. His hands deftly gripped the falling hammer and twisted it. The newly acquired steel parried the armored human’s blade. His vision hazed bloody, and he swung the maul. A dull clang and human grunt sang. The human’s blade cut him, trailing a wound across his unflinching body. His hammer swung. A dull clang and human yell sang. The maul flashed, trailing crimson in the evening sky. A dull clang and human cry sang. Tagaan lost his sight, and hammered the location of the human fiercely. Dull clangs and breaking bones sang. Dreadful heat seared his flank. Tagaan lept back, wiping the blood from his eyes. A robed human spoke strange sounds, flicked their fingers about, and a lance of fire shot forth. Tagaan flicked his ears savagely and ducked beneath the flame, charging the human.  _

Tagaan looked up the road, eyes falling upon a gory smear. Fragments of white bone, trailing viscera, and mangled limbs attested the end of the human caster. Tagaan coughed, and clenched his side. His head turned left, looking over the ruined building. 

_ Tagaan’s hoof hammered the pile of gore. Victorious elation washed through him. He congratulated himself on slaughtering so many humans. A dark presence whispered to him, urging him to finish his task. Tagaan glanced over the battlefield, and grabbed up a once sturdy spear haft. The broken timber fit nicely in his palm, and smouldered gently. A devilish delight swept around him. Tagaan walked a pace, sticking the smouldering end firmly in a small patch of fire. The wooden piece rose from the flame. A small blaze hung upon its end. Tagaan’s ears flicked forward.  _

Tagaan clutched the wooden frame of a human entranceway, heaving desperate gasps against the horror and pain. He solemnly looked over the charred ruin. Several burnt mementos lay scattered about and numerous pieces of furniture flicked off drifting coals. His gaze locked to the ground. Four strides before him lay three charred human skeletons. One adult sized. And two very small. Tagaan’s knees hit the floor, and he wailed to the heavens. Birds scattered from the piercing cry, and the wind smothered it in moments.

_ Tagaan entered the human home, hammering the entrance object down. Human cries assailed him. A form dashed forth and Tagaan swung instinctively. A satisfying and disturbing squelch filled the room. A human woman screamed loud and long. A human kit wailed in fear. Tagaan perked his ears and looked inside. A shattered human body gurgled upon the floor. Tagaan thought it seemed around twelve or thirteen summers. Revulsion throttled him and the mighty ram staggered back. A human female cried and seized up a metal stick, swinging fiercely. Tagaan lunged forward. His body contorted around the strike and he gripped her shoulder. His leg rose and broke her ribs. His hands twisted and his horn flashed forth. The human woman crumpled. Tagaan pant heavy and distressed breaths. His eyes surveyed the carnage and landed over the last human. A youngling. No more than seven summers. Tagaan’s stomach wrenched. The ferocity beyond his senses gripped him and strangled out rational thought. Tagaan pleaded with his body to halt. His right leg staggered forth. The young ram screamed in his mind, thrashing against the insurmountable hatred seizing him. His left hoof stomped aside the human. Desperation and horror strengthened his resolve. Three seconds passed. The horrid pressure upon his skull diminished. Tagaan sagged, collapsing heavily to the soft floor. The pressure returned and crushed him. His hands grabbed the human, and his horn slammed its skull. Tagaan recoiled, crying and mewling. The human lay mercifully dead, slain with a precise striker. The pressure relented and whispered. It told him that he was weak, and should not have hesitated. That humanity deserved death and worse. That it was the right of the strong to murder the weak. Tagaan cried and stumbled from the wrecked entrance. He clenched his chest and fell to his knees amidst the blood. Bile exploded out, splashing the ground before him. His hands clutched his body horn and the fragment of his soul. Tagaan screamed his breath away. The world faded around him. _

Tagaan staggered forward. He clutched his stomach, clamping the old wound closed tighter. ‘ _ I killed them...I killed them…’ _ He exited the small ruin. ‘ _ I killed them...just lambs...I killed them…’  _ His stride faltered. He glanced around the town. Dawn shone through heavy clouds, and the sound of birds filtered to him. ‘ _ Ancestors below...I killed them  _ all.’ __

Tagaan whimpered and stirred into motion. His left hoof trod heavily forth. ‘ _ I...no...no...no not me?’  _ He rubbed his aching head. ‘ _ Something else. Something  _ grabbed  _ me and...and…’  _ Memories of red flashed by. Wounds taken and given.  _ Fury _ . Animal bloodlust, unrestrained. His right hoof skid the earth. ‘ _ By my fallen kin...I wasn’t in  _ control  _ of myself…’  _ He trudged his left hoof along the path to his home. ‘ _ Or...or was I?’  _ Sorrow clenched his throat. ‘ _ I...I resisted it for a while…’  _ His right hoof skid forward. ‘ _ Could I have...could...could I have stopped it?’  _ A dry whimper shook his throat. ‘ _ If I was stronger? If I was strong like my father? Like my grandsire?’  _ His left hoof struck the earth. ‘ _ I killed them all...they all died because of me...so many lives snuffed out.’  _ His right hoof skid the earth. ‘ _ Blood of my fathers...I killed them all…’  _

The ruined village fell behind Tagaan. His hooves trod a slow steady rhythm. A cool breeze tickled his mane. Tagaan hunched upon himself, sorrow crushing his frame. Every fifth stride, a drop of crimson life dropped below him. Tagaan’s left trailed along his head, brushing by the tender stump where once his spirit stood proud. ‘ _ Soulless...a soulless monster...murderer…’  _ The familiar woods of his kin lands emerged around him. ‘ _ A fiend...a soulless, murdering fiend.’  _ His throat closed tight. ‘ _ I couldn’t stop it...I couldn’t stop...why couldn’t I stop?’ _

Tagaan staggered against a tree. His breath hitched. The sounds of the forest soothed his fraying mind. He rubbed his side, tenderly stroking wounded flesh. Strength bled away, and Tagaan whimpered. Deep ragged breaths shuddered his frame. Tagaan bared his teeth and hissed. ‘ _ Nearly there...keep going…’ _ A dreadful whisper wracked his mind. 

_‘Why? Why should you keep going? What right have you to live?’_ Tagaan groaned. ‘ _You said it yourself...you are not naught but a soulless murderer.’_ His hands clawed over his eyes. Tagaan spurred his legs, jerking hastily into motion. ‘ _Run from it all you wish, you can not escape truth. And the truth, Tagaan, is that you are a_ monster.’ Tagaan whimpered. His pace increased. Bitter, Malicious laughter rattled his skull. ‘ _One of the Lost. A fallen. Oh, the sweet irony…’_

Tagaan struck his skull, fist clenched and firm. “Out!” Tagaan flinched. A quiet rasp was all that remained of his voice. A deep breath stilled his thundering chest. Tagaan gripped his resolve. “Out. Leave me be, demon!” Faint laughter rumbled, drifting further away. ‘ _ Surely a demon...nothing else would speak like that.’  _ A shiver wracked his frame. ‘ _ Nothing else would...lie like that.’  _ An uncomfortable weight settled over him. ‘ _ But...I did say it myself...and...and I did…’  _ Tagaan wrapped his torso, hugging himself tightly. ‘ _ I killed them.’  _ Dreadful remorse waxed high. ‘ _ Nothing can change that. And what but a monster would slay lambs? The defenseless and weak?’  _ A ragged huff departed him. Tagaan stirred his legs, moving closer to his home. ‘ _ I...nothing I can do...nothing can right that wrong…’  _

A familiar call met his ears. Tagaan jerked his head upright. Nostomo howled through the forest, Haazixan trotting alongside him. Tagaan relaxed his shoulders, and released the tension holding him. His knees struck the earth. A soft whimper squeezed from him. Tagaan’s father slid beside him, clutching furtively to Tagaan’s body horn. Nostomo pressed his forehead gently to Tagaan’s. Tagaan melted, falling wholly into his father's embrace. A charging boy struck his side, mewling in relief and joy. Tagaan bleat a hurt laugh, and wrapped his brother tight. The pains of battle subsided and a great weariness consumed him. Nostomo spoke quietly, good arm tenderly rubbing Tagaan’s arm. “Tagaan…” The mighty chieftain’s voice cracked. “...My son…I…” His head dipped low. “Thank the Ancestors! You’re back!” He tightened his grip. “You’re safe...you’re safe…” His voice trailed off.

Several seconds passed. Tagaan nuzzled into his father's mane. Haazixan clutched his chest tighter. “I’m so glad you're back!” His brother spoke cheerfully. Releasing tension lifted the boy's tone. “I told Bano you would come back! I told her you were too strong!” Haazixan stepped back, ears wiggling joyously.

Tagaan rubbed his brother's head, softly brushing his body horn. Haazixan tilted, leaning into his brother's palm. Tagaan’s ears relaxed. Rigid tension bled away. Quietly he spoke, voice choked and raspy. “Haazi... little Haazi...so sure of me…” 

Haazixan cocked his head, ears pulling back questioningly. “Well, yeah.” Haazixan wiggled his ears. “You’re the best big brother ever! You’ll come back no matter what!” 

Tagaan bleat a laugh, honest and pure. He rubbed Haazixan’s head. His brother's ears fluttered against his hand. Happiness swelled through him. Tagaan spoke, voice strengthened and warm. “Go on Haazi. Go tell mother and Daavansa I’m back.” Haazixan perked up. His brother yelped an affirmative and dashed towards their home. Tagaan watched his departing brother. ‘ _ So fast...such a noble little one.’  _ Familial pride suffused him. Tagaan leaned against his father, and breathed deep. ‘ _ I’m back...I’m safe...I’m back…’  _ Dark anxiety licked his mind. ‘ _ But...but I...could I even be safe with Haazixan?’ _ Terror wrenched him. ‘ _ I...I didn’t want to kill the human lamb... _ could _ I even stop myself?’  _ Tagaan whimpered, cold dread renewing his hurts. 

Nostomo nudged his son. “Tagaan, what is wrong?” He gently turned Tagaan. His eyes bore into his. Concern drew his ears low. “Do you hurt gravely? Do you need to see Rika?”

Tagaan slumped, grasping tightly to his father. “Father I...during the...the fight…” A wracking shudder swept him.  _ Visions of blood, gore, and bone. Screaming. Broken bodies.  _ “I...I wasn’t…” Nostomo flicked his ears forth. His eyes held Tagaan’s. Love and understanding shone within. The hands holding him tightened gently. Tagaan drew a shaky breath. His mind calmed. “I wasn’t...myself. When I fought…” Nostomo’s eyes hardened. His ears flicked forward. Tagaan shuddered. “There was a human lamb...and  _ something _ took hold of me!” He rubbed his eyes. “I...I tried so hard but...but…” Emotion shattered his voice. “But I...I killed it...Ancestors below I KILLED it!” Nostomo shifted, shouldering Tagaan’s weight. “I...I couldn’t stop father...I couldn’t stop…” Birdsong sounded clear and true. Daylight warmed the pair. Nostomo stepped forward, gently guiding Tagaan towards their home. “...Am I...Am...Am I evil, father?”

Nostomo huffed. “No, Tagaan.” The mighty ram stilled. His great head lifted, gazing skyward. “What you speak of...that...not being yourself.” Nostomo exhaled deeply. Great sorrow drug down his ears. “That is something every warrior faces one day.” His hand idly squeezed. Memory pulled his eyes far away. “There is a great darkness in us, Tagaan. All Khazra feel it sooner or later.” His hooves stepped forward slowly. “You have heard me speak of ‘the lost’ before, no?”

Tagaan followed his father. ‘ _ All warriors?’  _ Relief weakened him. ‘ _ All Khazra? Thank the ancient kin…it’s not just me!’ _ He dipped his head, resting slightly. “Yes, father. I remember.”

Nostomo flicked forth his ears. “I...have often spoke of them as entire clans, but that is not the truth.” The distant sounds of working and speaking kin drifted in the forest. “The truth, my son, is that the lost can be anyone.” His father fell silent. His jaw worked open and closed. “...The truth is, that when we speak of ‘the lost’, we are speaking of those who  _ embrace _ that darkness.” A deep shudder wracked Nostomo’s frame. “Some clans are full of them. Some are not. But it is not inherited. It is a  _ choice _ , Tagaan.” Unbreakable resolve steeled his father's voice. “You could become lost. You  _ could _ embrace that evil. But you did not.” Pride softened his tone. “You fought it.  _ That _ my son, is what it means to be a  _ virtuous _ warrior.” Nostomo met his son's gaze. “To rage against that darkness within. To defend your kin, and kill your enemies.” His hand loosely squeezed Tagaan’s mane. “Sometimes, the darkness will win, but what is important is that you  _ never _ surrender.”

Tagaan flicked his ears forward. He dipped his head and continued on. “I...thank you, father.” Weary relief took hold of him.  _ ‘I am not evil...I am not evil…’ _

Haazixan bowled through the underbrush, tackling his father's legs firmly. His brother chattered like a bird, meaningless and beautiful. Tagaan’s ears wiggled happily. ‘ _ I am not evil…’ _ Daavi trot into view, immediately striding to Tagaan and tutting over him. His mother spoke harsh, relieved words. Tagaan’s mind blurred, unable to focus longer. ‘ _ I am not evil…’  _ Daavansa’s voice joined the comfortable din. The sweet sound of his family lulled Tagaan, yanking him to rest.  _ ‘I am not evil…’ _


	25. Chapter 25

Itherael landed, staggering and unsteady. The archangel spurred himself, desperately entering the great Library of Fate. ‘ _ It cannot be! It cannot!’  _ His soft boots slapped against the ornate flooring. ‘ _ All I’ve done! So many lies and deceptions!’  _ His wings trailed far behind him, frayed and wavering. ‘ _ For what!?’  _ Itherael surged through the resplendent hallways. Lesser angels scattered, startled in his wake. Tremors and fearful mutters betrayed their concern. Itherael ignored his fellows. ‘ _ All to prevent dissent among the council!’  _ Serene echoing tones filled the air. His path sped, hastening through the grand archives.  _ ‘Why? Why would he? What point does this make!?’  _ Several senior scholars hailed him. Itherael meekly waved them off. The wings of his fellows drooped, contentedness falling to anxiety. ‘... _ why?’  _ Itherael’s steps faltered. ‘ _ Why would Tyrael condemn himself?’  _ A foreign cold seeped through his core. ‘ _ Why would Justice abandon the heavens?’  _

His hand gripped over his chest. The stifling sensation raged. ‘ _ Something chilling myself…’  _ He turned his mind forward, resolutely striding to the center of the grand archives. ‘ _ Not physical. No. Mental…seizing my limbs and strangling thought…’  _ Every step slowed his pace. ‘ _ Tightness in my mind...stiffness of my form…what is this?’  _ Itherael stopped, gazing high. The intricate eddies of ephemeral blue mist swirled above. A ceiling, barely visible in the gentle light, hemmed the room in a graceful curve. ‘ _ All soon to end.’  _ Itherael shuddered and wrapped his arms about himself. ‘ _ Is this...is this feeling perhaps...fear?’  _

The archangel stirred his feet, heavily trodding across the floor. ‘ _ That emotion others so often speak of, that I was always blind to?’  _ Before him stood a simple pedestal, perfectly centered in the great library. Five scrolls lay neatly together. Ancient power radiated forth and the light glint upon the perfect cylinders. ‘ _ Surely it is not...Fate holds no room for fear. It must be...disharmony...from the trial.’  _

He dipped his cowled head, snatching the scroll of shimmering yellow. ‘ _ Tyrael’s scroll…’  _ Itherael hastily unrolled the volume. ‘ _ There must be some way to divert this...there must…’  _ The heavenly light of fate seared his breast, warming the entirety of his being. Itherael spoke a soft word of power, and threads of power searched through the scroll. 

The dread tightness wrapped his core. ‘ _ Unacceptable...unacceptable...horrid…’  _ His stalwart mind peered through the veil of time, plucking and observing the realities stemming from his own. ‘ _ Unacceptable!’  _ Itherael tugged another strand of fate.  _ Chaos spread, violent and all consuming.  _ ‘ _ No! Unacceptable!’  _ The light of fate brightened, called to its master. Terrible and wondrous power erupted forth. Itherael redoubled his efforts. ‘ _ No! There is a path to serenity! I  _ will  _ find it!’  _

The light forming his body wavered, drowning in the tide called forth. Itherael observed and discarded thousands of fates.  _ Chaos. Destruction. Slow decline.  _ His body shook. The unfamiliar emotion grappled his mind. Pain flared throughout his ethereal form. The archangel raised his head, closing his sight of the world. ‘ _ I will...I  _ will _ find it.’  _ Itherael stilled his mind, and connected his mind to the Crystal Arch..

Dazzling light exploded. Itherael shone in the grand archives, visible within and beyond. The light of Itherael scattered immediately, caught within the swirls of might. Itherael seized his physical form. Dreadful determination held his will firm.  _ ‘I will…’ _ The brilliant tempest of light bent to his will, weaving delicately through the sands of time. Millions of realities were weighed and tested in a moment.  _ Ruin. Death. Defeat. Valiant efforts. Futility.  _ The emotion rending him asunder spurred him on. Itherael’s body scattered, carried along the eddies of light. The will of the archangel steeled itself. The light of heaven burned through time, testing and observing every possible variable.  _ Defeat. Defeat. Slow defeat.  _

Itherael released the might, swiftly yanking his physical form to him. The humbly clad archangel reformed, and fell to his knees. ‘ _ I can’t...there is...I…’  _ Itherael fell forward. His hands caught his fall, slamming against the beautiful floor.  _ ‘How? Why? Surely this is the darkest fate? Surely I can find it...surely I can find the path to salvation…’  _ Itherael pushed himself. The body of the archangel did not move. The emotion returned, and crushed the angel to the floor. The heavenly scroll of justice rolled from his grasp. A strange pressure built within his ethereal eyes. Slow droplets condensed and fell. A splash of soft blue fluid struck the floor.

Ithereal drug his left hand to the fluid, and softly touched it. ‘ _ Tears...I have not shed tears for some time…’ _ Itherael flexed his wings, imbuing the drifting appendages with a spark of power. He carried himself upright, landing softly to his feet. ‘ _ I...I must speak to Malthael. He will…’  _ Itherael’s head dipped. Wrenching shivers clenched his chest. ‘ _ Of course...of course not. Dissent has stricken the Angiris. This is the path of defeat.’  _ Weariness pulled him. Itherael stirred his wings. The archangel drifted back. ‘ _ I...I have failed.’  _ Calm fatigue filled the archangel. ‘ _ I have failed. The path has altered. There is nothing but mitigation now.’  _ Itherael turned himself, flying sluggishly towards the archive's entrance. ‘ _ Nothing but dulling our defeat. So long it has stared me down...so long have I toiled…’  _ He whispered aloud, voice choked and quiet. “...For naught…”

“What is for naught, Archangel?” A timid angel quiered him from aside. “What is the matter, venerable one?” 

Itherael stilled himself, and alighted upon the floor. His advisors visage slipped over himself. “A simple chain of events I attempted to orchestrate.” Guilt and despair hollowed him. ‘ _ More lies...more deceit…’  _ He dipped his cowled head, waving a hand aside. “Pay me no heed at this moment.” False warmth colored his tone. “I speak to myself.”

“As…” The angel righted himself and bowed. “As you wish, venerable one.” Worry tinged the younger angel’s tone.

Itherael nodded, spurring himself into swifter motion. ‘ _ That was harsh…’  _ His conscience whispered. ‘ _ He now worries and frets. I should soothe him…’ _ His head fell. ‘ _ No...no. There is no point. No point at all…’ _ Another angel spoke, querying him. He waved his hand and muttered. ‘ _ My antics are upsetting them...they look to me for guidance. I should correct this.’  _ The library entrance hung before him. Itherael crossed the threshold, throwing himself along the celestial walkway outside.

The bright lights of heaven assailed him, piercing the vision and mind of the archangel. ‘ _ The light itself scorns my deceit…’  _ Itherael landed and walked to the edge of the pathway. His knees struck the hard stone. Pain flared. Itherael looked below. Clouds and white structures meandered in the tranquil light. ‘ _ All soon to burn. All soon to fall.’  _ Itherael covered his face. ‘ _ Why Tyrael?’  _ Clenching hurt enwrapped him. ‘ _ Why? What are humans to you?’  _ Itherael lowered his arms and folded them. His hands clutched their opposing arms. ‘ _ Why would you abandon the Angiris for them?’  _

A hand gently touched his shoulder. Itherael straightened himself. Leaning back, he glanced aside. Another angel, bedecked in simple linens and symbols of hope, stood near him. The angel's hands twined together, and his wings twitched anxiously. “Noble archangel.” The angel dipped his head. Compassion and concern dominated his voice and body. “Are you well?”

Itherael laughed humorlessly. “Of course. I am well.” He waved his hand. “Your concern is noted, and appreciated.” His hands alighted upon his thighs, tensely gripping them. “Please, do not let me keep you. Be about your business.”

The angel hugged himself, drawing inward. “With all due respect, venerated one, I do not believe you.” His wings fluttered nervously. “Such a deception is easily seen through, venerable one. Your tone, your bearing...your light itself speak of great worries.” The angel stepped back, bowing his head. “I mean no offense archangel...I merely wish to aid you.”

Itherael tightened the grip upon his thighs. ‘ _ Auriel…you certainly train your host well.’  _ A deep sigh deflated him. ‘ _ Perhaps I can use his pride?’  _ Itherael raised a hand. “You...you are right of course. I merely did not wish to trouble you.” A soft chuckle softened his tone. “I assure you, it is nothing too grand.” He looked away, gazing to the sky. “But, you have noticed it. Your Archangel has taught you well.” Itherael stood, brushing himself off. “Do pass along my compliments.” His hands clasped firmly behind him. Tension tightened his shoulders. Itherael minutely stretched his neck, willing the coils of his light to relax.

“I..:” A quiet shuffle sounded. “...Of course. Be well, Archangel.” Itherael stood still. ‘ _ Several more seconds...then I can move…’  _ His feet twisted, grinding softly into the ground. His hands clenched. Several seconds passed. Itherael turned his head. Tranquil wisps of light meandered on the empty pathway. Itherael relaxed himself. ‘ _ Good...good…’  _ A deep sigh drug him down. ‘ _ That will be...problematic… in the future…’ _ Itherael dropped his hands, strength fleeing from him. ‘ _ I should meditate...calm myself before more are worried.’  _

Itherael stirred himself into flight, gliding through the tranquil heavens. Stillness overtook him. Pathways and buildings of pure stone idled in the soft light. Itherael’s simple robes fluttered. Wind blew by, ruffling his robes and stirring his limbs. Itherael closed his vision, accelerating through the familiar sights. Heavy despair dimmed his mind. Sluggish doubts and soft weariness dulled his senses. The fleeting clouds blurred together. Itherael’s mind drifted. Emptiness seized him. Instinct directed him, guiding his slow flight. His simple boots alighted upon another stone pathway. Itherael walked forward, blind and withdrawn. Waving blue caught his eye. Itherael released a breath. ‘ _ Ah. The Gardens of Hope.’ _

Ornate jars and opulent pots lined every path in a winding maze. Delicate ephemeral blooms sprout up, and blue ferns drifted in the tranquil breeze. ‘ _ Small wonder my mind would pull me here… _ ’ He stepped forward, losing himself among the heavenly garden. His hand lulled to his side, brushing the leaves near him. ‘ _ Life...pure and unburdened… _ ’ Itherael knelt, and bore his gaze into the planter. A single bloom, resplendent and purest white, peeked above the rim. ‘ _ Such a delicate thing… _ ’ His fingers gripped the flower bud.  _ ‘A single twist...a single pull...and it is rent asunder… _ ’ He sighed, brushing the bloom and melancholy thoughts away. 

Itherael lifted his head, looking to the horizon. There he sat, unmoving. Seconds passed. Minutes bled together. Several angels passed near him, greeting the archangel reverently. All moved on, his silence and limited gestures unnerving.

A time later, a gloved hand touched his shoulder. A quiet, friendly voice greeted him. “Hello, Itherael.” The slender fingers squeezed slightly. “What troubles your heart, that you would stray from your scrolls and readings?” Concern and gentle rebuke blended together, warming his heart. 

Itherael reached his own hand up, gripping the other’s. “Auriel. It is good to hear your voice.” He dropped his hand, and looked again upon the flower. “The trouble on my heart…” Quiet filled the air. Auriel knelt beside him. The tall, slender woman clasped her hands together and sat silent. Her six wings fanned from her ornate robes, and the shadow of her face radiated comfort. Itherael gripped her shoulder thankfully. “...The trouble that weighs upon me should be obvious, if you would forgive my curtness.” 

Auriel laughed, a delicate and musical sound. “You are forgiven my friend, of course.” She tilted her head and looked to the sky. “...And yes, I know your trouble. Tyrael exiling himself?” Her cowled head shook gently. “Not even you could foresee such a thing.” She returned her gaze and grabbed his hand. “And the fates of the heavens have surely drifted to a more...forlorn, path.” 

Itherael nodded, eyes locked to the fragile bloom. “Yes...the fate of the heavens…” His head dipped, drooping wearily. “...Our fate is dark, sister. Dissent among the council always heralds horrible…” He rubbed his eyes, tiredness finally breaking his voice. “...Horrible...fates…” A gentle breeze caressed the pair. “...I...fate turns against us, I fear.”

Auriel nodded and released his hand. “I see.” Her hands rose and cupped a flower. Quiet filled the air again. Itherael folded his hands together. His wings fell low, brushing the floor behind him. “This is grave news, my friend.” She leaned back, hand trailing from the bloom. “Such an event will require great vigilance to avert.”

Itherael tilted his head. “...Avert? Auriel...I…” His eyes bore down.  _ ‘I...well...perhaps… _ ’ He shook his head firmly. ‘ _ No. I have checked.’ _ His hands clenched tight. “No. Our fate is sealed. Destiny brings us to ruin.” A nagging doubt wiggled within. 

Auriel paused, returning her gaze to him. “...That is unlike you, Itherael.” Her hands alit upon her thighs. “You are tireless, and always seeking a better path.” Her head tipped, obscuring her visage. “Surely this is but a moment of panic, brought about by Tyrael’s departure. I know you, Itherael. This is not you.”

Itherael lifted his head. “Panic? I…” He shook his head. “No....I...I do not panic!” His hands rubbed at his head. “I...I am…” Itherael stood and stepped back, one hand clinging over his chest. “I...I…” Itherael tilted his head, renewing his sight consciously. “You are...you are right…” The gentle breeze picked up. “I’ve...I have panicked…Fate is always changing…” Powerful dread plagued his elation. “I...I panicked! How? Why?”

Auriel stood. “My friend...brother…:” She stepped forward slowly. “How could you not?” Her hands folded together. “The council has stood united in harmony for as long as the crystal arch has shone.” She looked aside and flexed her wings. “Arguments alone have caused fear in my heart.” Her left hand covered her heart. “For one of the Angiris...one of our brothers, to leave us? To abandon the heavens?” A shudder wracked her frame. “It wounds me. It truly does. Just imagine the sorrow the servants of justice feel...their archangel has abandoned them.” She paused briefly. “We must do what we can to alleviate their pain in the erstwhile.”

Itherael cocked his head. “Erstwhile? Do you...do you believe Tyrael will return?”

Auriel nodded deeply. “Of course he will. He has abandoned the heavens for disagreement’s sake.” She turned and walked serenely to the walkway’s edge. “He has not lost his will. Nor has he lost his great resolve.” She tilted her head high. “He will return when he is ready. When his wounds have healed, and he has accomplished what he believes he needs to.” Her wings spread, full and graceful. “I am sure of it. I  _ know _ it to be.” Auriel stepped forward and took flight. She twined slowly in the air, hovering several strides from the edge. “Hold fast to hope, Itherael. Without hope, we will surely fall to darkness.” Auriel spun and sped towards the garden center.

  
Itherael lowered his head and folded his arms. ‘ _ Yes...I… _ ’ His robes fluttered gently. ‘ _ I have been blinded… _ ’ Unease worried his spirit.  _ ‘But if I have faltered to despair once, how many more times might I fall?’ _ His steps carried him to the edge.’ _ How many times _ have _ I faltered?’  _ The clouds below twined and swept by. Several lesser angels flew by, and the structures of the heavens stood resolute and steady.  _ ‘But...but I suppose that is for another time…’ _ His wings stirred and lifted him.  _ ‘I...I will watch fate. I will continue to hold fast. _ ’ Itherael lowered his head and directed himself towards a scrying orb further in the garden.  _ ‘I...will steel myself against dread and fear.’ _ His feet touched down, and he walked slowly to his orb.  _ ‘I will continue my efforts. Mortals are half of hell and half of heaven; they  _ can  _ make new fates. They  _ can _ change our fate.’  _ His hands touched the orb, and his mind reached through the veil. He sorted and weighed the souls of humans, finding the brave and noble.  _ ‘Humanity shall aid us...or we are doomed…’ _ Itherael called forth the light of fate, and peered into likely futures. ‘ _ Perhaps with enough mitigation, this cruel fate  _ will _ be averted.’  _ Gentle power thrummed through his form. ‘ _ Perhaps...perhaps…’ _ Itherael stilled himself, and orchestrated fate.


	26. Chapter 26

_ Incandescent flashes of gold. Sparkling blue, grand and mysterious geometric shapes of glittering azure. Premonition. Suddenly, as if it had been there all along, Horrid streaks of red blazed through the tranquil scene. Anarchy. Desperation. Desolation. Shapes and colors once splendorous reduced to dull, tattered mockery. An unending tide of black reached out from the void, consuming all in its path… _

Robert blinked awake, jerking upright and gripping his mace. ‘ _ Bloody…’ _ A deep groan rumbled his chest, and his free hand rubbed his bleary eyes. ‘ _ Right. Right, got it. S’posed to do sumthin.’  _ A sharp tug yanked his mind southward. ‘ _ Right! S’posed to go  _ south _ , sorry.’  _ Bitterness filled his thoughts, and the man stretched his aching body. ‘ _ Ahh...hells...how did mother even  _ find _ ground that don’t hurt to sleep on!?’ _ Robert stood and shook himself. His palms interlaced and pressed against the base of his back. ‘ _ Must’a cheated. Surely. No way I’ve been just doin’ it poorly fur three weeks now…’  _ He craned his neck and popped several stiff bones. 

A small grunt escaped him, and Robert relaxed. 

‘ _ Alright...got a dream…’  _ He rose and swiftly began packing his simple camping supplies. ‘ _...and not just  _ a  _ dream, I got  _ that _ dream.’  _ He set the simple rucksack aside and grabbed his mother’s armor. ‘ _ Means  _ sumthin _ ’ is gonna happen today. Don’t know what, a’course.’  _ The heavy plate closed on his sturdy limbs, and his fingers tied strong simple knots. ‘ _ Mother would know. I’m sure.’  _ Cold emptiness settled over his gut. ‘ _...Mother would find a better place to sleep…’  _ Her vambraces clasped over his arms. ‘ _...would prolly’ be movin’ faster to…’  _ Robert donned her heavy sabatons. ‘ _...wouldn’t be so scared and weak, I bet. Would have no troubles out ‘ere…’  _ His shield glint the morning sun, and his hammer lay nearby. Robert slowly took the armaments up. ‘ _...I...she would…’  _ Her helmet stared him down, pinning his soul in place. ‘ _...she…’  _ He attached his shield and reached for the helmet. It rose and met his eyes. ‘ _...she…’  _ The cold of his fear broke, pouring warm sorrow over his frame. Wracking shudders split him, and tears blurred his vision. ‘ _ I wish she was here…’ _

Robert hunched his shoulders, drawing inward. ‘ _ I’m not really ready, am I?’  _ A cool morning breeze brushed by him. His well secured armor insulated his body, allowing only a small gust through his neck and joints. ‘ _ Heaven above...it’s so  _ quiet _ …’ _ Robert placed the sturdy helmet over his head and clasped it in place.  _ ‘Not even birdsong this morn...should be talkin’ to mother, not getting armed up all by my lonesome.’  _

Robert shoved off the ground, pushing himself fully to his feet. His muscles cried resentfully, and the ground wavered before him. Robert gripped his helm and steadied himself, breathing careful and deep. ‘ _ Blasted...not drinking enough again. Mother’d have my head…’  _ A bitter smirk crossed his face. ‘ _ Can just imagine the scolding now…’  _ Robert paused and looked below. His thoughts slowed, and his breath stilled. A wracking shudder swept through him. Heaviness built behind his eyes. Moisture leaked out, pattering against the steel plate. His shoulders tightened painfully, and the muscles of his chest constricted. A deep shuddering breath drew through him. Robert lifted his head and squared his shoulders. ‘ _...Aught’a get goin’. Day won’t wait for me.’  _

Slinging his packs over his back, Robert strode off. The aches of poor rest subsided, every movement loosening his stiffness. ‘ _ No lookin’ back. No lookin’ back.’  _ His heavy footfalls filled the morning air. Birdsong filtered back into the world alongside a refreshing wind. ‘ _ I’ll stop movin’ forward if I start lookin’ back.’  _ Robert deftly checked his flask, gazing about for a road. ‘ _ Half full and no roads in sight...that’s not good…’  _ Stowing away his mace, Robert tilted his head back and raised the flask. The stopper popped and the neck of his flask slipped beneath his helmet. Cool, clean water filled his mouth. Robert swallowed a small gulp, leaving most in his mouth, and replaced the flask. 

‘ _ So...need to get more water…’  _ His fingers tapped his flask. ‘ _...Could use more money…’  _ He tapped his coin pouch. ‘ _...And could use more food.’  _ Robert shook his head and inhaled deep. ‘ _ Right. Should try and find a town then. Fill up for the road.’  _ Another swallow of water soothed his throat. The heavy plate upon his body jingled, and the sun rose high. 

Robert allowed his mind to drift, thinking idle thoughts as he wandered south. Several creatures spurred themselves through the underbrush. A small herd of deer dashed along the deep woods. ‘ _ Hmmm...no. Don’t have time to hunt today.’  _ His feet found a small footpath, and Robert hummed happily. ‘ _ ’Sides, don’t need food bad for a while yet.’  _ Rolling his shoulders, Robert drifted along the small path.

Tension built behind Robert’s neck. His armor weighed heavy on his body. Robert flicked his gaze through the underbrush. ‘ _ Can’t put my finger on it...somethin’s wrong though…’  _ A deep grimace flashed beneath his helm. The wind blew by, cooling his joints and breaking the silence. ‘ _ Hold...silence...quiet...that’s what it is.’  _ Robert tensed himself. ‘ _ Can’t hear any birds or crickets. Somethin’s close.’  _ A quiet growl rumbled his chest. ‘ _ Well. It won’t get me. No ma’am.’  _

Robert slowed his pace. His eyes watched the trees, ears alert and mind quiet. The brush right of him shook.

Robert pivoted, bracing his shield before him. A snarling Khazra slammed its horns against the steel-clad wood. Chilling fear yanked Robert’s strength away. Air hammered from his lungs, and the bayying of an angry goat deafened him. An axe, large and simple, lashed behind his shield and slashed firmly against his arm plates. The painful jolt sparked Robert’s mind.  _ Step back, shove shield, create room. _ His sturdy limbs surged, following his training. The Khazra grunted and staggered back.  _ Draw weapon, access foe.  _ Robert expertly drew his mace, bent his legs slightly, and raised his shield between himself and the beast. 

Panic bled from him, well drilled instinct soothing his fear. ‘ _ Just a goat.’  _ Robert grit his teeth. The Khazra growled and stepped left, circling the crusader. It’s lean frame easily moved the long axe it held. ‘ _ Just a  _ damned _ goat.’  _ Burning rage quashed the last vestiges of his fear. ‘ _ A savage,  _ murderous,  _ evil goat.’  _ A dreadful snarl filled his helm. Robert spoke, anger suppressing his rationale. “Murderer. Fiend! Devil-Spawned FILTH!” The Khazra bayed it’s own challenge and swept its axe wide.

Robert pulled back, allowing the sweep to pass before him. The Khazra bleat and staggered, it’s momentum overwhelming its control. Robert stepped forth, pivoting his hips and striking the Khazra’s chest with his shield. Righteous flame burned his limbs, filling the blow with heavenly might. 

A short pained howl split the forest. The Khazra collapsed, falling over its hooves. The axe tumbled freely away. Robert righted himself and snarled. A pathetic bleat whispered from the convulsing Khazra. 

Savage joy filled Robert. ‘ _ Right where the motherless bastard belongs...writhin’ in the dirt.’  _ The crusader stepped forward. A panicked cry sounded from the Khazra. It lashed its hooves out, desperation fueling powerful movement. Robert casually raised his shield. One hoof struck the white steel. Terror burned the goat-man’s eyes. 

A shred of merciful pity flashed through Robert. ‘ _ Poor dumb critter...never had a chance. Just like…’  _ Anger built.  _ A swinging blade. Crimson in the morning. A dying mother.  _ Robert hissed. ‘ _ Just like…’  _ His hammer struck the beast’s knee. A sharp crack silenced the woods. Hatred consumed Robert. ‘ _ Just like... _ her…’ Robert threw his hammer aside. The Khazra bleat another terrified sound and spurred its limbs in desperate fear. His shield clattered against the ground. Robert’s hands clenched. 

The goat man turned away, attempting to gain its footing. Robert pounced. His heavy bulk crushed the Khazra to the floor. A single sweep, enhanced by the righteous wellspring within, turned the Khazra and struck it’s snout. Blood splattered Robert’s armor. Slender hands lashed out, desperate and uncoordinated. Robert forced his knee deep in the beast's torso. Hot breath flushed his face. Robert’s left fist hammered fiercely. Power surged, weaker than before. Crimson sprayed. Robert pivoted, swinging his weight behind his right fist. Blood splashed his mother’s tabard. A horrid rhythm filled the woods. Crunching bone and gurgling goat roused Robert’s vindictive fury. His throat opened, letting loose a terrible and senseless roar. His firsts swung swiftly, and his vision blurred beyond recognition. The holy power leaked away, lessening with every strike. Robert howled against the wind, oblivious to his waning strength. 

Robert’s breath wheezed from his lungs. Hammering pulses attested his frenzied heart. Painful tremors rocked his chest. A deep hacking cough tore out, and Robert hunched over his desolate chest. ‘ _ Got…’ _ Ragged panting slowed. Robert fumbled at his side, unclasping his water skin and shoving it toward his lips. The nozzle poured forth blessed refreshment and stilled his spinning nerves. ‘ _...carried away…’  _ Bloody droplets pattered against the ground. Robert stowed his water and wiped the gore from his visor. Dreadful, sharp pain dominated his knuckles. His head dipped and he glanced over the Khazra.

Robert flinched, sickness filling his stomach. An unrecognizable pulp lay above the creature's neck, and blood stained the land. A forceful shove staggered Robert to his feet. His right hand clasped over his stomach, covering the sharp pain within. Slow, steady limping strides pulled him backwards.‘ _ That...shoulda just…’  _ A sharp hiss blew through his teeth. Robert leaned over and took up his shield and mace. ‘ _...shouldn’t’a...shoulda...kill em quick…’  _ His fingers fumbled through attaching his armaments. Practice steadied his turbulent attempts. Robert stirred his legs. His steps returned to the footpath, slowly limping along the trail. ‘ _ Think I...think I cracked up my knuckles again. Needa heal ‘em.’  _ Right hand resting over his heart, Robert reached within himself. ‘ _ Should empower laws a’ Hope. Safer.’  _

The wind blew along, and the sounds of wildlife filtered back. ‘ _ Nurture in your heart compassion and peace.’  _ Faint wisps of power leaked from the heavenly wellspring. Worry chewed his innards. ‘ _ Should be channelin’ more power…’  _ Robert steadied his breathing and continued. ‘ _ Kill with heavy hand and heart.’  _ Power fluttered just beyond his reach. Guilt nibbled his mind. ‘ _ I sure did kill happily...maybe that’s what the Light’s cross about…’  _ His feet trod a slow rhythm. ‘ _ Doubt not the righteousness of your cause. Protect those that cannot protect themselves.’  _ Heavenly light shimmered from within. Robert nodded his head uneasily. ‘ _ Didn’t break no laws there.’  _ A deep breath stifled his pain. ‘ _ Judge others on character and merit.’  _ The trickle of power slowed. Panic singed Robert's mind. ‘ _ Huh? I didn’t break that one...haven’t even  _ seen  _ no others today!’  _ Robert gripped his resolve and steadied his breath. ‘ _ Practice mercy.’  _ He spoke the final word and stopped. 

The building power vanished, collapsing back to its well. Robert gasped, falling to his knees and clutching his stomach. Dry heaves wracked his body. The pain of his injuries mocked him. ‘ _ What!? But...I...I don’t…’  _ Robert pushed himself upright. ‘ _ I don’t understand! I haven’t broken the laws!’  _ His gaze struck the sky. “Why!? What have I done?” The woodlands grew quiet, and the sky remained unfazed. “What!?” Robert’s throat tightened, forcing several coughs. ‘ _ Mercy...should I have…’  _ Robert stared down, eyes wide and unfocused. “The goat?” Confusion stole away his fury, pain, and sorrow. “Was I...should I have spared the goat?” Robert tilted his head. “But...but they are evil to a last...murderers and fiends…” The fifth law echoed in his mind. ‘ _ Judge others on character and merit…’  _ Robert folded his arms against the confusing fear building within. “But...but I did...it attacked me…” A groan sounded his building hurt. _ ‘Did I...did I act to cruelly? Surely not...they’re just goats, not people…’  _

Robert groaned and pressed himself up. Arms crossing over himself, he took several steps along the path. Bitter, lost musings filled his mind. ‘ _ Should I spare the demons too?’  _ Robert grit his teeth and straightened his back. ‘ _ Rapists and murderers? What crimes can be worth death then!?’  _ Robert buzzed his lips, exhaling the building stress. ‘ _ No point in moping. Doesn’t solve nothing.’  _ A weary sigh rattled loose the last of his anger. Robert steeled his will and channeled forth power. Blessed strength filled his core. Robert grimaced and discarded the power. ‘ _ Not healing light. Need healing light…’  _ Robert’s eyes closed and his head bowed. ‘ _ Heavenly Light, share your strength. Grant me the light of Hope.’  _ His prayer sparked heat in his chest. Robert reached for the light of Hope. His will brushed against the healing light, and the light pulled from him.

His slow steps stopped. ‘ _ Why?’ _ Frustrated weariness filled the void of his adrenaline rush. ‘ _ What would you have me do?’  _ Robert scuffed his boot, chewing his bottom lip softly. ‘ _ Mother...Mother would say to pray, and seek guidance…’  _ Robert knelt to the floor, lowered his head, and clasped his hands together. His will reached out and connected to the Light within himself.

A pleasant heat suffused him. ‘ _ Akarat, father of peace and bringer of light, hear my prayer.’  _ Robert closed his eyes and stilled his spirit. ‘ _ The light of Hope does not answer my call.’  _ Robert pursed his lips. ‘ _ I have sinned. I killed a Khazra in brutal anger. I did not grant it the swift death I should have.’  _ Guilt wormed in his chest. ‘ _ I tormented and brutalized the creature, and broke the Laws of Hope.’  _ Robert inhaled deep and exhaled slowly. ‘ _ Grant me penance. Show me the path of atonement for my crime.’  _ A simmering flame boiled in his chest, rising and seizing his mind.  _ Burial. Respect for the fallen. Kindness.  _ The flame evaporated. 

Robert gasped, coldness stilling his limbs. One hand clutching his pounding head, he stood on unsteady legs. ‘ _ Burial…’ _ His eyes turned back down the path. The stiffening body lay, half hidden in the stained shrubbery. ‘ _ Okay...I...I suppose it is the least I could do after...killing it.’  _ Robert steeled himself. His legs stirred into motion. ‘ _ I will bury this creature, and guard it from molestation.’  _

Robert approached the corpse and scanned the immediate area. ‘ _ No more threats at the moment.’  _ A small grunt soothed his frayed nerves. ‘ _ Best be about this.’  _ He withdrew the small shovel he carried, and thrust deep into the earth. Dirt lumped aside. Steel struck the earth. Dirt lumped aside. Robert lost himself to the toil, digging a deep grave for the Khazra. Sweat beaded his brow. The sun blared overhead. Time passed.

Robert flung a heap of soil aside and glanced around. Evening crept over the woodlands. Insects sang their songs, and birds slowed their trills. He stood in a hole large enough for the Khazra and four feet deep. ‘ _ There. ‘tis done.’  _ Robert heaved himself out of the hole and stretched his aching arms. A deep sigh released his tension. Robert stood and took up the stiff corpse. Revulsion churned his innards. Hatred burned his mind. A harsh growl rumbled out, and Robert dropped the body. Shaking his head firmly, he filled in the grave. 

Twilight grew strong, and the sounds of night rose to life. Robert stamped down the last bits of soil and smoothed his hair. Shaky hands took up his helmet and reclasped it. Robert lowered himself to one knee and clasped his hands. ‘ _ Light of Heaven, hear me.’  _ His muscles clenched, and his teeth bared. Power welled within, rising to his prayer. ‘ _ Grant this Khazra peace, and protect it from evil.’  _ Robert pulled the power and breathed it forth. A golden sheen lit the grave. The light blared sharply, and dimmed slowly. 

‘ _ Amen.’  _ Robert stood and brushed his hands. Pain flared in his body. Stiffness splintered out. Robert hissed and rolled his shoulders. ‘ _ Blessed Light…’  _ Robert filled his lungs and closed his eyes. His hands closed. Tremors shook him. ‘ _ Grant me the light of Hope. Soothe my wounds, and grant me peace.’  _ A stream of light filled his heart. The organ sped up, and burned from the power. Robert grit his teeth and held the might. 

A burst of power filled him, and Robert broke his composure. Relieved gasps broke from his mouth. Robert clenched a hand over his heart. Slowly, gently, the light stitched together his wounds.  _ ‘Much slower than normal. Good.’  _ Robert stilled his breathing and stood. ‘ _ More than nothing at all. So…’  _ He dropped his hand. Rolling his neck, Robert closed his eyes and sighed. Tension bled away. ‘ _...So I’m not forgiven yet, but I’m starting.’  _ A firm nod solidified his opinion. ‘ _ I understand. I will not fail you.’  _

Robert turned and strode down the road. A happy sigh whispered form his lips. ‘ _ Glad I didn’t have to mend these bones myself.’  _ The night grew thick. Robert pursed his lips and glanced about. ‘ _ Should start lookin’ for a camp.’  _ A light chuckle escaped him. ‘ _ Diggin’ that grave sure took it out of me.’  _

Robert hummed softly, an old simple tune sung by his mother. His steps halted beneath an oak. He pursed his lips and analyzed the area. ‘ _ Hmm...looks good enough.’  _ Robert nodded and unslung his pack. His tune continued. Robert laid his mace down and gazed to the stars. The twin moons twinkled, and Robert knelt down. ‘ _ Hold a moment…’  _ Robert frowned. ‘ _ I don’t...I don’t recognize that star…’  _ A searing blue light glimmered. ‘ _ Hold…’  _ His eyes narrowed. ‘ _ That...that don’t…’  _ The light glared brighter. Robert’s eyes widened. Blazing blue ignited the sky. A flaming projectile soared overhead. Air thundered and shoved Robert down. A shattering tremor shook the earth. Robert clutched his hands tightly over his head. Animal panic seized his heart and pumped adrenaline fiercely. 

  
The wind died and silence filled the void. Robert lifted his head fearfully. The night fell to serenity. Robert staggered to his feet and grabbed his mace. ‘ _ That…’ _ Eagerness filled the crusader. ‘That  _ is what the dream prophesied.’  _ Robert quickly reclaimed his supplies. Determined purpose and adrenaline burned away his exhaustion. ‘ _ A falling star. It landed close too…’  _ His fingers deftly tightened his shield straps. ‘ _ I will investigate. See if anyone is hurt from the impact.’  _ An eager grin lit his face, and his limbs spurred swiftly into motion. ‘ _ I hear the call. I shall answer.’  _


	27. Chapter 27

Robert frowned, rolling his shoulders against the biting rain. Moisture soaked his tunic and underclothes. ‘ _ Has to start raining, of course. Bloody star had to fall a days march away too...’  _ A road rose from the foliage around him. Robert grinned and set himself in the soaked bend. ‘ _ Almost like it shook all the rain loose.’  _ A soft laugh eased his frown and he looked around. A small village sprung from the wood lines. A dreary and oppressive air suffocated the town, and in the hazy distance a cathedral sat in ruins. Lazy blue smoke trailed away, visible even from such a great distance. The road curved again, winding down the hillside to a sturdy wooden wall encircling the village.

Robert craned his neck, popping stiff vertebrae. He pressed on through the muddy soil and down the winding pathway. The ancient trees pressed in around him, looking specters closing in. A shiver rattled his spine. ‘ _ Shake it off. Just the rain and mist…’  _ Movement down the road caught his eye. A hunched over shape sat in a deep skid. ‘ _ Could be anything. Best be safe.’ _ Robert brought his shield before him and spoke. “Ho there! Who are you?” 

The shape jerked upright. Robert stepped back. ‘ _ What in the...what in the hells is that!?’  _ Blood streaked down the open mouth of the person. Pale skin sloughed around bone, unhealthy and fluid. Some dread force tugged the thing closer. It’s legs stepped in a slow, unsteady pattern. A blood-curdling growl reached Robert’s ears. Dead eyes stared ahead, unfocused and white. The things' arms swung freely with its movements. It’s flat foot struck the thing it hunched over, knocking it within sight of Robert. A mangled torso skid in the mud. The body appeared long dead, abject terror frozen in the mangled visage.

Robert snarled. “Oh that so, bastard!?” His stiff fingers fumbled at his mace. “You’re gonna bleed for that.” Cold menace laced his voice. His mace tumbled to his hand. The creature shambled towards him. “Oh!? Just walkin’ at me?” The light of punishment shimmered through his body. “Brain musta’ rotted first.” Robert shifted himself, adopting a readied stance. “Come on then…”

The creature shambled within several strides of Robert. It’s motion stilled. A harsh gurgle ripped its throat, and the creature surged with terrible speed. It’s bony hands crashed into his shield. Robert stepped back, bracing himself. ‘ _ So they  _ can _ move quick.’  _ A short grunt accompanied a mighty shove. The creature struck the earth and swiftly thrashed to its feet. It’s head swung about, dented and bleeding. ‘ _ That settles it. Undead for sure.”  _ The undead lashed forth again. Dull scratches raked his shield. Robert shifted his weight and struck his mace across the things exposed back. Golden sparks burned its flesh, unimpeded by the rain. The corpse hit the ground and flailed its limbs wildly. Robert stomped its back. Golden flame burned to life. His shield moved aside. His hammer lifted, and crashed against it’s skull. A spray of gore joined the rain, burned to nothing moments after by the righteous flame.

Robert stepped back and passed his mace to his off hand. His fingers dug beneath his helm and brought out his necklace. The iron symbol of zakarum fell in his palm. “I can’t give you a full burial, but…” Robert pulled power from his core and channeled the protective light around the corpses. “...Rest, and know peace.” Unpleasant heat singed his chest. A soothing light engulfed both bodies and sunk deep within. Seconds passed and the feeling faded. Robert glanced at his necklace. The diaphanous blue fibers shimmered with welcoming light. Quirking a brow, Robert stowed his necklace away. ‘ _ Didn’t know it would help that. That woman…’  _ Robert scowled and rolled his head. His mace returned to its holster. ‘ _...Mary? Marrian?’  _ Remembrance ushered elation, warming his sour mood. ‘ _ Myriam! That was her name.’  _ Robert fingered his mace and followed the road. ‘ _ Said it was a braid of angel hair...never done nothing before. Don’t know…’  _ Robert shook his head. ‘ _ Find out later.’  _

Muddy squelches announced his movement. ‘ _ Blasted rain...leastwise it hides my sounds at a distance…’  _ An unsettling thought chilled him. ‘ _...and my scent, if they hunt like that…’  _ Robert shook himself and licked his suddenly dry lips. ‘ _ Akarat’s teeth...I hope not.’  _

His steps brought forth an imposing wooden wall. The beams stretched over his head, easily twice his height. Several sturdy structures supplanted sections, and Robert nodded appreciatively. ‘ _ Solid wall. Keep just about anything out, I think…’  _ A voice called over the rain. “Hold up there!” Robert tilted his head and brought his free hand over his face. The scant shelter allowed him vision. A young man poked his head above the wall. “Who’s you? And what’s you doin’ here!?” Anxious hostility tinged his breaking voice.

Robert raised his right hand. “Ho friend!” His eyes blinked against the rain. ‘ _ Surely that boys only fourteen summers...maybe sixteen? What is he doing as sentry?’  _ Robert lifted his voice and spoke lightheartedly. “I’m just seeking to get out of this rain right now.” He chuckled softly. His breath died out, depleted under the boys hostile glare.

“Sure’s you are.” The boy narrowed his eyes. “All I know, you're in league with the zombies!” A crossbow peaked over the rim of the wall.

Robert pursed his lips. ‘ _ Not used to this kinda greetin’...’  _ His palm drew flat and raised higher. “Zombies? That what was on the road?” The boy remained silent, shivering slightly in the rain. “...well...I tell you, I’m not working with ‘em.” 

The boy narrowed his eyes. His hands fidgeted over his crossbow, unsteady and uncertain. “Maybes...I’ll get me da. He’ll talks to ya.” The boy withdrew.

Robert dropped his hand. ‘ _ Hopefully I can talk to his dad, and get ‘im to let me in.’  _ The bulky man fidgeted in the rain. ‘ _ Damnation. I sure hope so…’  _ Robert turned his head, gazing back to the woodlands. ‘ _ Whatever is goin’ on here...It’s sure as the burning Hells not natural.’  _ Unease bubbled up. ‘ _ Somthin’ just isn’t right here…’  _

A voice caught his attention. “Ho there.” Robert turned back. The boy peaked over the wall, accompanied by a much older man. Several prominent scars caught Robert’s eye, and he noted the man’s strong build. ‘ _ Looks like a soldier, I reckon.’  _ The man confidently held a crossbow, pointed down and away from all three. “My boy says you want in.” His eyes squinted. “Why should I?”

Robert cleared his throat and faced the pair fully. Taking one knee, Robert presented his shield and mace. “I am a crusader of Zakarum.” His hammer pressed over his chest, one head above each lung. “I bear the name Kasalis, and seek out redemption for my name and order.” The practiced introduction hung several moments in the quiet rain.  _ ‘I sure hope this isn’t some pagan backwater…’ _

The man scrutinized Robert. Several seconds passed. A short nod broke the tension. “Good to meet ya, Kasalis.” He turned and clapped the boys shoulder. “An’ ya’ did good Damian. Always be cautious. Always…”

The boy perked beneath his father's praise. “Always be vigilant! For Tristram!” His adolescent face beamed.

The man chuckled and squeezed. “Aye. So tells me, vigilant nightwatch…” His tone shifted adopting stern formality. “What do you reckon?”

Robert shifted, slight amusement warming his mind. ‘ _ Guess I’m today’s lesson then.’  _ He smiled wide, concealed beneath his helmet. ‘ _ Ah well, best play the part then.’  _

Damian squinted and lowered his crossbow. Confidence steadied his voice. “I reckon...he sure looks like a warrior.” The boy paused and pointed. “Gots the holy symbol on ‘is shirt an’ shield too.”

The man cuffed him gently. “Don’t go pointin’, I’m right here boy.” His hand alighted on Damian’s shoulder. “Asides that…” The man cast a thankful glance towards Robert and nodded. “So he seems what he says.” Damian turned and nodded, meeting his father's gaze. “If that’s so, there’s prolly some way to verify it.”

Damian furrowed his brows and nodded. His head swiveled back to Robert. “So Kasalis…” Robert paused. The too familiar name washed discomfort over him. “If you’s a warrior ah tha Light…” His eyes brightened and his voice rose cheerfully. “Recite the Laws of Valor!”

‘ _ Ah! A perfect opening.’  _ Robert cleared his throat and stood straight. “The Laws of Valor demand the following: The first law, Engage the Darkness with tenacity and fervor; The second law, face the Darkness blade in hand…” Robert pulled forth power, channeling a surge of might. His armor glint gold in the twilight rain. Damian gasped. “The third law, crush those who oppose the cause; The fourth law, pity the frail and challenge the mighty…” Burning warmth seared his body. Robert grinned and channeled the light of punishment. His weapons grew brilliant. Damian stared in awe, and his father raised his brows. “The fifth law, destroy any who would harm the innocent; the sixth law, show no weakness; and the final law, never surrender.” Robert concluded his speech and released the power. His armor dulled. Light drained away. 

Damian stared, mouth agape. His father waited a breath before nudging him. “So, think ‘e passes?” 

Damian nodded. His slack jaw worked silently. Another nod broke his trance. “Aye da, ‘e sure does pass…” 

The man laughed and clapped Damian’s back. “Well go let ‘im in then.” Damian flinched and nodded sheepishly. “Don’t wanna leave a guest soakin’ in the rain.” His son disappeared behind the gate, and the man leaned over. His arms folded on themselves, forming a cradle for his head. The man grinned. “Had to show off, huh?”

Robert cast his gaze down. His arms lifted. “Well…” A soft chuckle punctuated his words. “...I uhh…” He reholstered his mace and gripped the back of his neck. “I just…” A section of wall jolted, and began lowering. Robert exhaled a full laugh. “Yeah. Wanted too impress him a bit.” His free hand fell to his hip. “Assure him I was bein’ honest an’ all that.”

The man shook his hand laughed. “Oh no, no blame. If I could make muhself glow, I’d sure as rain do it too.” A warm grin eased his ragged face. “Name’s Daltyn, captain of the Tristram militia, by the by. And thank’ee fur bein’ patient with muh boy.” Joyous, familial pride visibly swelled in him. “‘Es a bit o’erzealous, but a good lad. And smart as a whip, too.”

Robert nodded and rolled his shoulder. “Aye. Good to be cautious about strangers.” The wall clacked against the mud, revealing a well worn pathway to the village center. Robert meandered through the gate. An impressive framework of walkways and pulleys caught his eye. ‘ _ Damned impressive…’  _ He tapped the chin of his helmet. ‘ _ Almost like it was already in place…’  _ Damian waved energetically before cracking a wheel. The pulleys creaked to life, lifting the wooden gate. “Tell me though…” Robert called up, catching Daltyn’s attention. “You said ‘captain’ of the militia…” 

The man turned and steeled his visage. “Aye. I did.” His arms enfolded his athletic chest and the man grit his jaw. “Tristram’s had a standing militia since muh grandda.” Daltyn fidgeted and pressed back against the wall. “A good thing too. Those zombies attacked in the middle of last night.” A hand fell on the wall affectionately. “Weren’t fur this wall, we’d all be dinner…” A dark shadow crossed over him. “Still...several farmsteads out beyond the walls. Two thirds my men got themselves chewed up bad today.” Daltyn laughed bitterly, a rueful grin breaking his stoic gaze. “Heroic ol’ bastards decided to go out and bring the Tinnie’s and the Scar boys to town.” His stance grew weak and his free hand closed over his face. “Made it halfway afore dead’ens swarmed ‘em.” He lowered his hand and sighed deeply. “Leastwise only one of my men kicked it. Rest is just wounded. Holed up in the Slaughtered Calf.” His head tilted towards a large building in the town center. “Speakin’ ah’, Damian!” The boy perked up. “Go get a room ready for Kasalis, would ya?” His son smiled and ran down the muddy road.

Robert listened intently. ‘ _ Heavens above, that sounds bad. A brigade of militia, stopped dead and sent to rout?’  _ His hand tightened and loosened. “The Tinnies...they one of your outside famlies?”

Daltyn jerked his head, whipping around to Robert. “Now...Don’t you go tryin’ to…”

Burning resolve raised his hand, cutting off Daltyn. “Don’t try to talk me out’a it.” He lowered his hand and balled his fist. “I spoke the laws of valor, and I don’t intend to break ‘em.”

Daltyn paused. His eyes scrutinized Robert. “Aye…” He nodded softly. “Ya did...yeah the Tinnie’s is one’a our clans.” He stood straight and rolled his shoulders. “Out bout a half mile northeast.” His head bobbed further down the road Robert had followed. The man slung his crossbow, and grabbed a short spear. His simple chain shirt jingled. “It’ll take us a bit longer tah get there, though.” He grabbed up a sturdy kite shield. “On account’a…”

Robert shook his head. “No. You will not be joining me.”

A furious scowl crossed Daltyn’s face. “Like hell I won’t!” The man puffed himself up, anger warming his face and joints. “Don’t you be tellin’ me to stand by while you go get yurself kilt for us!” His scowl deepened. “By Akarat’s shinin’ eyes man, did ya not hear!? They took down my militia!” He rest his spear against his shoulder and struck his hands together. “You need someone’a watch yur back! Failin’ that, I’ve got muhself a bone tah pick with’em!”

A hand stayed the man’s rant. Robert cleared his throat and stood tall. “I do need someone, someone to make sure this wall is safe when we get back.” His head stretched left. “An extra would be nice, but I don’ need one. I’ll bring ‘em back Daltyn.” He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. “I swear it. You stay here, and make sure they don’ get to wet.” Humor tinged the last of his words.

Daltyn scowled and crossed his arms. “Damn you...but yur right…” He walked to the wheel and kicked out the block holding it firm. His hands cranked, lowering the gate. “...But you’d best be back with the Tinnie’s, ya’hear?” Robert nodded, a solemn vow. “Don’t wan’ muh boy gettin’ a room all tidied up for you jus’ fur you to get ‘et.”

Robert gripped his mace. “Don’t worry, Daltyn.” The familiar steel weighed down his arm. “I’ll get your people back. I swear it on my mum.” The gate hit the muddy ground. Daltyn nodded grimly. His mouth clamped tight. “The Light will protect us.”

Daltyn lowered his gaze, age dominating his features. “Akarat preserve you, crusader. Go get’tem back.” He turned away, facing the opening. “And don’ you die, neither. Got enough deaths on muh conscience.”

  
Robert nodded and walked by. “Don’t fret so much.” Righteous determination lessened his aches. Pumping adrenaline loosened his joints. The rain crashed upon him. “I’ll not fail.” He exited the village and strode past the gate. A cream sounded, and it raised into position. Robert nodded firmly. ‘ _ I’ll  _ not  _ fail. I will  _ not  _ dishonor mother. And…’  _ He stilled his mind, drawing forth punishment. ‘ _ They…’  _ Power simmered under his skin. ‘ _...will  _ not  _ perish.’  _ A brilliant sheen glared beneath the rain, and Robert created the hill before him.


	28. Chapter 28

Robert struck the zombie aside. Old blood joined the pouring rain. The mud beneath his heels yielded, shifting his balance. Robert snarled and caught himself. The sheen of rain blurred his constricted vision. Fingers of wretched cold pierced his skin and sapped his strength. ‘ _ Almost to the farmstead.’  _ He crushed the skull of the zombie. ‘ _ Light bring you peace.’  _ His necklace, clutched in his mace hand, pressed against the twitching back. A wave of protective light infused the corpse. 

‘ _ Fourth one. Many more than I would think…’  _ Seeping exhaustion pulled Robert. ‘ _ Getting tired. Needa rest soon.’  _ Robert strained his eyes, glaring through the darkness. More woods stuck from the earth. ‘ _ Blast it all…’ _ Robert stirred himself and jogged through the hazy landscape. ‘ _ I’ll find it soon. It’s a house after all…’  _ His eyes scanned the landscape. ‘ _ Can’t really be  _ that _ hard…’ _

The rain grew heavy and thick. All sound fell beneath the pouring blanket. Robert paused and wiggled his extremities. All his digits responded. ‘ _ Good. Doing okay so far.’ _ His run resumed. Shapes blurred in the rain. Distorted shadows clung behind his mind. A primal fear rippled through his gut. ‘ _ Ignore it. Ignore it. Ignore it…’  _ Robert circled the mantra. His feet flew. 

Trees gave way slowly to an open field. A deep and dark mist settled in the rain.

A rather large shape poked from the ground. Another larger shape stood behind it. ‘ _ Think I see that farmstead up there…’  _ His soaked, aching joints muttered angrily. ‘ _ Akarat’s teeth, I hope that’s it.’  _

A harsh scream reached his ears. Fear crept along his spine.  _ ‘Am I too late? No, no, no!’  _ Breath ragged and harsh, Robert sprint through the rain. Cramping muscle weighed him down, and slick mud slowed his progress. Robert crashed through the wood line and stormed into an open field. 

Several shapes stirred in the rain. Robert grit his teeth. Holes poked in their frame, and the creatures moved in sharp bursts. The skeletons of men, bedecked in old rotted clothing, shambled in the rain. ‘ _ Skeletons? This is bad…’  _ Three of the things clustered around something upon the ground. A four legged creature, mutilated and unrecognizable, bled in the muddy furrows. Old and dull blades swung mechanically, striking the dead creature. Churning disgust washed through him. ‘ _ Just...hitting it…’  _ His head shook involuntarily. ‘ _...what horrific...butchery…’  _

Robert filled his lungs and shook his head firmly. ‘ _ Already dead, need to get past them.’  _ Stinging pains began assailing his extremities. Seeping ache built within his joints. ‘ _ Fast too, startin’ ta get waterlogged…’  _ The burning power within crested, filling his body and soul. ‘ _ Need Hope more...need to heal myself or I’ll rot.’  _ Clutching his mace against his chest, Robert spoke the Laws of Hope.

His voice filtered through the rain, determined and clear. The three skeletons halted and turned on creaky limbs. Righteous power burned his heart, and shock drove Robert back. His summoned power filled his heart and cooled. The hammering organ nearly sagged in the sudden respite. ‘ _ The blessing is strong…I need to make sure I don’t break the laws this time…’  _ Robert inclined his head. “Thank you, blessed Heavens.” 

A sword struck his chest plate. Robert staggered back, left foot slipping far behind himself. Tucking his knees, Robert hit the ground forward rather than back. ‘ _ Damnation, got distracted.’  _ Another impact struck his head. Robert twisted, bringing his shield between himself and the undead. Three blades hammered it. ‘ _ Glare then. Can’t get up under that.’  _ Robert tapped the primordial might within. Blazing agony filled his eyes, and heavenly light engulfed his shield. An impact struck his shield. Robert roared. His shield swung wide, illuminating the night. A searing light struck the undead. Stark scars scorched themselves in their bone. The undead staggered back, slowed under the blinding glare. 

Robert blinked away his pain. His legs pushed and righted themselves, bringing him to his feet. Robert turned and braced his shield. The skeletons swung, slow and weak. Old iron sparked glimmering steel. Robert thrust his mace, striking the right skeleton’s chest. Cracks reached his ears, and the skeleton simply crumbled.

Victorious glee waxed within his heart. Robert followed his momentum, crushing one skeleton beneath his shield. A sword clattered against his breastplate. His hammer swung, battering the undead into splinters.

Robert panted, body swiftly chilling before the rain’s onslaught. Slow tendrils of healing light stitched his body back together. The pains of his failing flesh eased slightly. The unrelenting din pressed upon him. Robert shook his head firmly. His hand wiped his helmet, throwing moisture aside. A scarecrow beside him sagged in the rain. Barely visible through the inclimate weather, a simple house jut from the earth. ‘ _ Good.’  _ Robert glanced over the ground, locating the skulls of the skeletons. Kneeling down, his hands swiftly farted between the bones. His cross touched each brow. A brief light warmed the old bones.

Robert stirred his feet. The mud beneath him swirled and eddied. Teeth grit, Robert pressed forward. Cracked wood pulled into view. Uneasy fear settled. ‘ _ Broken door. This is bad, this is bad…’  _ Robert pulled his shield up and marched through the splintered entry.

A sharp pressure rammed against Robert’s armor, staggering his stride. A skeleton pulled its halberd back, stabbing mechanically. His eyes narrowed. Anger split his jaw. Robert brushed the skeleton’s weapon aside. His mace swung high and crushed the undead to the floor. Soggy bones pattered about the floor. Heavenly sparks illuminated a simple kitchen, abandoned mid-meal.

Robert steadied his breath. His hand swiftly tapped the skeleton’s skull. Clattering sounded deeper in the dwelling. His feet sprung instinctively. ‘ _ Blessed Light, let there still be time!’  _ A corner turned and revealed a small cellar hatch. Stairs of simple stone descended to the shattered hinges. Two skeletons stabbed their halberds blindly down. Fury sparked in his chest. Robert bellowed. His feet ran, and his shield rammed forth. Bones scattered and pelted the ground. Righteous flame burned bright. Robert hammered the abomination before him, scattering its remains on the stair.

“Light above…” An awed voice whispered. Robert steadied himself and looked down. A lean man held a pitchfork in strong but unsteady hands. His jaw slacked open. Reverence flushed over his simple features. The man collapsed to his knees and dropped his improvised weapon. “Thank you, angel!” Relieved tears met soggy bone. “Thank you! Mary!” He whipped his head about. “Mary, an angel has come! We are saved!” 

Robert shuffled his feet. His head shook. Two light taps sanctified the corpses. “Name’s Ro…” Panic flashed through him. ‘ _ Not Robert anymore. Focus up.’  _ He cleared his rough throat and spoke clearly. “Name’s Kasalis. Not an angel, but I am here to help.” 

A woman peeked her head around the man, and three children clutched around her skirts. The oldest, a boy near twelve summers, released the woman’s skirt and approached. Relief and dread warred over his visage. Tears burned the boys eyes, and his voice croaked. “Mister! Frankie…Frankie’s still in the barn!”

Cold fear seized his heart. Robert pivoted, sprinting out of the sheltered home. Heavy rain crashed upon his armor. The crusader hurled his bulk through the rain. Ragged, desperate breaths tore his throat. The open doors of the barn swung in the chilling breeze. Two skeletal figures crowded the entry. ‘ _ Light above, give me strength!’  _ Burning power exploded from his core. The gemstone within his armor warmed immensely, burning the night and his skin.

Robert thundered through the skeletons, shield sweeping the wet bones aside. White splinters shattered away, tossed violently to the mud. Deep pain pierced him. ‘ _ Overusing myself...damnit! Damnit!’  _ Two more skeletons stood before him. Robert ran forward. His mace arced through the night. Both skeletons collapsed. The force of his blow hurled the piles of limp bone aside. Golden flame licked the remains, burning them to ash. 

A whole form before him twisted sharply. Strange, dark robes fluttered around it. ‘ _ Human?...’  _ The man’s eyes widened. His feet stuttered back. His hands raised before him and twined together. Darkness gathered between his palms. Hateful fury burned Robert’s heart and soul. Robert stepped forward and thrust his shield against the man’s chest. The stranger flew back, striking the floor several strides from Robert. Agonized wails split his jaw. The flames of punishment flared on his robes, consuming the flesh beneath. The man swatted them desperately. His hands pulled away, trailing new fires down his arms. Panicked screams pierced the night.

Robert steeled his visage and strode forth. The man pushed himself back. Robert stepped over the man. His heel raised. The man howled the last of his lungs. A horrible crunch silenced his pain. Robert knelt down and pressed his cross to man’s burning chest. “Find peace…” Hate consumed him. ‘ _ Though you don’t deserve it.’  _ The flames of punishment coiled around him, caressing his hands softly. ‘ _ No burning...only warmth…’  _ Robert pushed himself up and scanned the room. 

The barn creaked in the windy rain. Several stall sat empty, and bales of hay filled the rafters. A tiny face peeked down. Tears streaked the young boy’s face, and he whispered from above. “Are...are you an angel?”

Relief crushed Robert. The breath held in his lungs fled, and Robert lowered his head. ‘ _ Oh thank the Light...thank you Akarat…’ _ His mace touched the ground, and Robert swiftly unclasped his helm. The boy stared down. Small sniffles rent Robert’s heart. Robert removed his helmet and panted. “No, ‘m not an angel…” His arms lifted towards the boy. “I’m a friend a’ yur da.” Terrified and cautious eyes traveled over his form. “Your name’s Frankie right?” 

Hope sparked in the small orbs of green. “Yessr’...my names Frankie…” He pulled himself further out, revealing a youth of four summers. “Did...did ‘ou ge’ the bad guys?”

Robert smiled. “Yes sir. They’re done for.” His hands opened and held high for him. His necklace swayed in the breeze. A gentle light filled the braid. “Let’s us get you home huh?” Several seconds passed. Robert shivered. Frankie walked to the edge and dropped over. Strong hands, clad in hardened steel, caught the boy under his arms. Frankie shivered and pushed himself against Robert’s breastplate. Robert plopped his helmet over the youth. “Hold this, can ya?” A small giggle echoed in the steel. ‘ _ Oh Heavens above...my heart can’t take it.’  _ His arms shifted, cradling Frankie between his shield and chest. Robert tilted his angle, ensuring nothing could strike the boy. Dropping to one knee, Robert retrieved his mace.

Robert glanced outside the barn. Pouring rain and chilling fog obscured the distance. ‘ _ Nothin’ I can see...good.’  _ Robert heaved himself upright. His hand pressed the necklace to the nearest skull. Gentle light filled it, swiftly followed by the other three.

A heavy breath exited his lungs. His feet stirred into motion. The torrential waters crashed over his shoulders. Dull, lasting pain gnawed him. Cold filled the air. The precious bundle within his arms wiggled uncomfortably and muttered sad sounds, lost in the downpour. “There there Frankie, there’s a lad.” His fingers squeezed gently. “We’re almost home.” 

Blood curdling weight impacted his back. Robert staggered forward, landing on one knee. His mace flashed, swinging a wide arc as he turned. Furious might shoved his legs straight. Robert locked his eyes on the two approaching forms. Both wore similar robes to the stranger. One appeared noticeably smaller.  _ ‘No.’  _ The plate over his back burned and sizzled. Something writhed over it. Clutching tendrils wrapped inside his skin. ‘ _ Dark magics…’  _ Robert bared his teeth. His body turned right, placing the shield between them. 

Robert hefted his mace. “Leave.” He yelled. “You don’t need to die!” His knuckles whitened over his heavy mace. 

A laugh reached over the rain. “Oh, really?” The larger one twined his hands together. “I think ya reversed tha script!” A bolt of darkness, burning red and writhing horridly, blast from his hands.

A similar impact struck his shield. Robert thrust his arm. The bolt staggered him. Dark smoke wafted from the impact. Shadowy flames licked his shield. Frankie clutched his chest and whimpered.

The last thread of Robert’s restraint shattered. He struck his arm out. ‘ _ Divine Light above, grant me your reach.’  _ Brilliant light split the sky. The two figures flinched back, suddenly illuminated. ‘ _ Arm of justice, be one with me.’ _ Robert held his mace high. The steel weapon erupted in reslependance. “Light of Justice, destroy them!” Robert drew forth his power and lashed his arm forth.

The golden Hammer of Justice whipped through the air. The larger man held up his hands and desperately stepped back. A flash of light engulfed him. The man tumbled back many strides. Glimmering light trailed away. A purified ruin splattered in the mud. An arm and legs twitched, evaporating swiftly into nothingness. The other man screamed and ran, disappearing beneath the heavy rain. 

Robert gasped and dropped his arm. The appendage drooped. Numb ache settled over it. A pulling twinge yanked his breath away. ‘ _ Damnation...more tha’ crystal bull…’  _ Robert stood, legs wobbling. His left arm tightened, rocking Frankie gently. “There there Frankie…” Robert panted. “‘Sall right...atta lad…” 

Sheer will moved his feet. “Almost there Frankie...almost there…” Robert’s voice fell near a whisper. Mud sloshed aside. The farmhouse grew ever closer. A shape burst from the doorway and sprint forward. The boy's father ran. Robert turned his arm aside. A relieved cry split the sky. The father swept up his son and cried his sorrow and joy. The four other members of the family burst from the door, carrying various odds and ends. More insensible cries soothed his ears. His helmet fell back in his hands. Robert muttered a thanks and set his shield. The tip drove in the mud, and the crusader leaned on it. 

The father approached, hat in hands. “Kasalis...sir…” Emotion choked him. “I...you just…” The rain wiped away his tears. 

Robert breathed deeply. His chest and heart slowly settled to rest. “Just my duty, friend.” The head of his mace clacked against his chest plate. “For Zakarum.” Robert turned his head, surveying the area. “...Go get your pitchfork. You need to get to Tristram. It’s safe there.” Robert lowered his head and steadied himself. Setting his mace down, he reattached his helmet.

The man moved his mouth. Words squeezed out. “Sir...yes sir!” His hand planted itself over his heart. “For Zakarum!”

  
Robert nodded and the man departed. His mind lulled. The mother gripped him in a bone crushing hug and wept upon his shoulder. Robert pat her awkwardly. The family heaped praise upon him. His ears dulled themselves . His mind filtered out their comments. Cold determination steeled his spine. ‘ _ More famlies out here.’  _ The mother released him and returned to hugging her son. Robert grit his teeth. ‘ _ Need to get them to Tristram quick. My night is not done. Not done by far…’ _


	29. Chapter 29

Robert knocked the wooden door firmly. Loud thumps fell beneath the rain. Several seconds passed. Robert swore and hammered the door again. Shattering aches pierced his joints and fingers. Rain poured around the armored figure. Exhaustion tugged his eyes. ‘ _ Open up ya blasted fiends…’  _ Pain cracked through his extremities. The healing Laws of Hope slowed the inevitable march. Robert knocked on the door. “Alright, that’s it. I’m comin’ in!” Righteous power surged through his hammer arm. Robert hissed. Horrid numbness seized the appendage. His steel arced high and slammed the door. 

Old wood cracked and hit the floor. Warm musty air billowed out. The old door swung, hanging limply from its hinges. Robert lowered his arm and groaned. ‘ _ Light above that smarts…’  _ His shield raised before him, he strode in.

A simple living space dominated the entryway. Several sturdy chairs lay scattered about the floor, alongside children’s toys and a damp book. Robert inhaled and exhaled. ‘ _ Eyes up front. Keep pressin’ on.’  _ Steps careful and measured, he advanced. A kitchen opened further in, darkened and abandoned. Robert stepped through the doorway.

Robert’s eye locked to a figure. A skeleton stood above a simple hatch, skull vacantly staring down. Robert growled and threw himself forward. Punishment burned his shield and hammered the skeleton. Bones rattled to the floor, scarred and burned under the holy light. Robert knelt and pressed his necklace to the fallen skull. His arm spasmed and twitched. Warmth flashed through him and light glittered off the skull. Robert filled his lungs and exhaled slowly. Pain stiffened his arm. His mace lifted and tapped against the hatch. “Ho there!” His ragged and hoarse voice called out. “Beast’s dead! You can come on out!” Robert dipped his head and waited. Several seconds passed. He tightened his grip and struck the hatch. “Hullo? It’s safe!” Anxiety simmered high. Robert sucked in his lips and closed his eyes. ‘ _ Akarat willing...please, please…’  _

“Is it...is it really gone?” A shaky voice queried, muffled beneath the sturdy wood. 

Robert exhaled and sagged. Strength bled swiftly from him. Nagging hurts shrouded his mind. “Aye. Skeleton’s smashed tah bits.” He leaned back and collapsed against the wooden wall. “All safe to come on out.” Heavy breaths shook his chest. Cold fatigue clawed ever higher. 

A metallic click reached his ears, and the hatch pushed up. A haggard woman peered over the rim. She gasped and ducked swiftly. Robert twitched.  _ ‘Just nervous, I’m sure…’  _ Several seconds later a young girl climbed up. The woman approached him, hands clasped together, and spoke. “Outside...is it safe outside?”

Robert intentionally relaxed his body. A deep breath stilled his tired lungs. “Aye. Aye it’s safe enough.” He pressed himself upright. Piercing stings assailed his extremities. “Any more in your family?”

The woman shook her head and scooped her daughter up. Her arms immediately began bobbing the young girl, stilling the child’s tears. “Ralph’s out of town. ‘E sometimes drives the wagons fur merchants, ya’see.” She pursed her lips and looked behind him. “You...you reckon he’s safe?”

Robert closed his eyes and grit his teeth. “I don’t know, ma’am.” Worry flickered over her eyes. “I s’pose as long as he’s not alone, he should hold up a’right.” The woman looked away. 

Doubt joined her worry. She nodded curtly. “Right…” She chewed her bottom lip. “He should hold up alright…” 

Robert returned her nod and turned. “C’mon. We need to get you to town.” His soggy clothing sloshed over his raw skin. Heavy bags drug his eyes down. ‘ _ Light above...give me strength…’  _ He hoisted his numbed arm. Shooting pains radiated from his bicep. 

The woman jerked behind him. “Right. They got that big ol’ wall ‘round town.” Her light steps fell behind his. She turned her attention, hugging her daughter tight. “We’ll be safe in town, sweetie. We’ll be safe…”

Robert exited the building, forcing alertness through his mind. ‘ _ Stay on the lookout. Be vigilant. Gotta save these folks.’  _ Thunder pealed overhead. ‘ _ Gotta.’  _ Torrential rains pushed down. Robert grit his teeth and marched forward. Muddy farmland cut the forest around him. Tall pines swayed in the murky weather. Shadows flickered beyond his sight. Dread washed up his spine. ‘ _ Another trek through that forest. Damn it all…’  _ He glanced behind him. The woman hunched over her daughter, sheltering her. ‘ _ I’m tired...but they need help…’  _

The pair exchanged nods. Robert turned and strode through the woods towards Tristram. ‘ _ Half hour march. Not that bad…’  _ Accumulating pain slowed him. ‘ _...not that bad…’ _

His feet trod a steady rhythm. Branches and puddles of dark water jolted his stride. Rain poured overhead. Night passed by, shadows growing ever deeper. Dullness overtook his senses. Gentle wind breezed by, stifling external sound. Robert’s hammering heart dominated his mind. He counted his strides, and turned back every twenty. The woman and her daughter followed behind, quiet and fearful.

Robert staggered over a deep rut. His eyes scanned the area. ‘ _ Ah, good. Back at town.’  _ The path wound down the hill, splintering towards the sturdy gate of Tristram. Robert stepped aside and gestured forward. “Town’s ahead. I’ll follow.” 

The mother nodded. Relief slackened her tense visage. Tears joined the pressing rain. She sprung forward, jogging to the heavy gate. Robert followed her. Dizzying fogginess clouded his mind. Exhaustion wore heavily. Robert sagged against the wooden wall. ‘ _ Jus’...one more family…’  _ Relieved and happy banter sparked over the rain. ‘ _ Daltyn said...one more…’ _ A voice called over the wall. “Kasalis! Are yah a’right!?”

Robert shook his head minutely. ‘ _ Why’s they callin’ for mother? She’s not…’  _ Pain tugged his gut. ‘ _ Right. S’me now.’  _ Robert waved his hand. “Aye.” His aching joints pulled the movement short. “Aye. ‘M fine.” Dull numbness fell over his extremities. “Jus’ needa’ rest a moment…”

The voice paused. “Kasalis...you don’ soun’ right!” Robert tilted his head up. Daltyn stood on the wall. A sheltered torch illuminated his worried face. “You’ve been runnin’ all night!” He pursed his lips and shook his head. “Ya’ can’t keep goin’! You  _ need’a _ rest!”

Robert exhaled. His head lulled. “Nah...nah I’m a’right.” He dropped his hand and tensed his frame. “Where’s that last family? The...Anders, ya said?”

Disbelief crossed Daltyn’s visage. “I...Kasalis you…” The militia captain swallowed and shook his head. “Kasalis, my boys can get tha Anders! They jus’ needa rest!” His hands raked through his hair. “They’ve made it this long. I’m sure they’ll make it anotha night. Don’t go gettin’ yurself killed!” 

Robert shook his head. “Ah, nah.” He pushed himself upright. “I’ll be jus’ fine.” Deep pain settled beneath his skin. “So, where’s thems Anders?” False cheeriness lifted his voice. 

Daltyn worked his jaw. A heavy sigh shook him. He hung his head and gestured. “That’a way. Bout ten minutes out.” The rain poured around him, drowning out his quieting voice. “Don’t ya  _ dare _ die...we still gotta thank yah.” 

Robert rolled his shoulders and stirred his feet.  _ ‘Ten minutes. Got it.’  _ His heavy sabatons fell in a steady jog, splashing mud and water in his wake. Pools grew deeper within his armor, fluid seeping deep. A bolt of lightning split the sky. The dark, tall trees groaned in the wind. Shadows concealed the land, revealing scant and unnerving sights. Robert ran on. Aching pains rose ever higher. Robert gasped and panted. Chilling rain cut deep, robbing his warmth and vigor. His feet hammered the earth.

Thunder split the sky. A shape stood in the road, hazy and clouded in mist. Robert flinched and reared his shield. His feet skid. Panic seized his heart. Robert set his feet and fell to his right knee. His shields tip dug in the mud, halting his slide. Robert grit his teeth and righted himself, scanning the land before him.  _ ‘Nothin’?’  _ Slow worry built. His grip tightened. ‘ _ Surely not nothin’...’  _ Robert readied his mace against the splitting agony, and walked forward.  _ ‘I could’a sworn…’  _

Rain poured around him. Robert shook himself and moved on.  _ ‘Musta’ been my ‘magination.’  _ His aching legs jerked to life. He resumed his pace, jogging through the darkened woods. Overtaxation harried his mind, creating movement beneath the shadow and fear in his heart. Robert ran, hand clutching his necklace tight.  _ ‘I’ll get there. I  _ have _ to.’  _ Fatigue built under every muscle. ‘ _ The Light protects me. The Light protects me…’ _

The woodland broke, revealing a sodden pasture. Wood and bits of metal jut from the earth, forming a simple and cheery fence around the field. Barely beyond his sight, a sprawling barn rose from the earth. Nestled within its shadow a house stood, dark and quiet. Robert closed his eyes and stopped. Lowering his head, he took several deep breaths. A hand attempted to wipe at the moisture clouding his vision. Metal thumped metal. Robert grunted and righted himself. ‘ _ Gettin’...real tired…’  _ His breath steadied, Robert jogged through the field.

Another peal of lightning exploded. Robert tucked his head and ran. His feet swiftly approached the house. The door hung open, striking its frame periodically. Worry nibbled his core. A cry sounded inside. Robert swore and spurred his tired legs. Desperation poured yet more adrenaline throughout his body. Ragged shouts filled the rainy night. Clangs sounded out, metallic and fierce.

Robert surged through the open doorway. A dark room, soaked in trailing water, revealed itself. Scattered items littered the floor. Dull groans reached him. Robert grit his teeth, reared his mace, and advanced. 

Sharp pains spiked within Robert's arm. Sharp, hissing breath sheared through his teeth. Two doorways lead up and down.  _ ‘Everyone else’s hidden in their cellars.’  _ Robert turned and approached the lower door. ‘ _ Likely they’ll be down in theirs…’  _ Stairs led down and opened into a small storage room. Two skeletons, moisture pattering from their sodden bones, gripped rough hewn swords. They stood silent and unmoving above an open hatch. A scream sounded below.

Murmuring pains roared alongside his fury, stifling all rational thought. Exhaustion weighed heavy. Robert snarled and advanced. Flames of Punishment coiled around his weapons, responding to his righteous anger. Searing agony flared. Robert’s right hand spasmed and dropped his mace.  _ ‘Damnation! Can’t stop.’  _ The skeletons turned and lashed their weapons out. Dull sword tips clattered his armor. Robert steeled himself and slammed his shield out. Bone met steel-covered wood. Small golden flames shimmered unabated over the soggy bones. Robert reared his arm back and struck again. His shield struck the skeletons clumsy blade aside, driving through and scattering the undead. 

Ever building numbness leeched his strength. Robert gasped and staggered forward. His feet stilled over the rim of the hatch. A short ladder led down, revealing a damp cellar.  _ ‘Four...maybe five feet down.’  _ He grimaced. ‘ _...nah...can’t risk it.’  _ Robert turned and swiftly descended. His feet struck moist earth. Robert swiveled and brought his shield up.

Robert’s blood froze. Eight figures clamored in the small area. A cowled figure bedecked in the cultist robes stood near Robert, calling words over the fray before him. Two men, one grayed and one young, stood with improvised weapons against two more roughly armed skeletons. A woman crouched against the far wall, clutching a bleeding child and wailing. Another young one clutched her shoulder, tucked tight in her frame.

Searing anger lit Robert’s veins. His heavy right boot slammed forward. The cultist whirled around. Her eyes widened. Robert turned his body, rearing back his shield. His foe staggered back. Her hands desperately waved the motions of some dark spell. Relieved cries broke from the fighting men. Robert stepped forward, hurling his weight through his shield. The hardened edge caught the woman’s shoulder. Her body crashed against the wall, seared and limp. 

The two skeletons ceased movement. Their wet bones slumped to the floor. Relief swallowed desperate horror. The mother’s wails continued. Robert walked forward. The two men pushed themselves against the walls, allowing his passage. His feet carried him to the mother. Robert knelt and gently opened her tightly bound arms. Screaming agony dominated his right arm. The mother’s harrowed face turned to his, mouth gaping in shock. A young child of seven summers lay cradled in his mother’s arms. Blood leaked from his open belly. Robert filled his lungs and unlatched his shield. His heavy left gauntlet pressed against the boy's wound. ‘ _ Holy Light above, hear my prayer.’  _ He dipped his head and channeled forth the raging fire. ‘ _ Light of Hope, smile on this young one.’  _ Tendrils of ephemeral Light tugged the boy's stomach closed. Radiant power stiffened his arm. ‘ _ Light of Justice, save this life cut short.’  _ The weaving light strengthened. Tears fell within his helm. Robert grit his teeth and bowed his head. ‘ _ Light of Fate, preserve his life that he may serve.’  _ Glimmers of power flashed down his arm, infusing the light within. A final flash of light brightened the cellar, and the boy gasped to consciousness.

The mother cried aloud, relieved tears replacing her sorrow. Her family crowded around, calling and clamoring over their saved son and his savior. Incoherent thanks reached his ears. Robert stood. His legs immediately trembled. Profound weakness numbed him. He staggered to the fallen skeletons, pressing an empty palm to their foreheads. Nearly unseeable Light flickered.  _ ‘Am I really...am I really at the end of my strength?’  _ Robert breathed deep and motioned to the ladder. “We’ve gotta…” Ragged pants stilted his speech. “We’ve gotta...move. Now.” His eyes trailed over the fallen cultist. Guilt gnawed away. Robert pressed his palm over her head.

Quiet determination fell over the family. The graying man, presumably their father, nodded grimly. “Right. Towns still got’a militia an’a wall.” His older son gripped his shovel tight. The mother stilled her cries and gathered up the younger children. Robert turned and staggered up the ladder. His feet trod heavily. Bone-deep exhaustion chewed away at him. He fully noted the sounds of the family following him, and their hushed conversations. Robert leaned over and gripped his mace and necklace. His fingers clenched unsteadily over the steel. Numb pain loosened his grip. Gritting his teeth, Robert clenched tight and marched forward. His stride paused, pressing his symbol against the fallen.

The rain fell over his frame again. Robert slogged forward. His right arm hung low, and his shield raised only half before him. He turned and looked over the family. The mother and her children entered the rain, jogging behind their menfolk. Robert nodded and stirred his legs. 

Their legs splashed. Rain poured. A crack of lightning illuminated the night. The pasture fell behind them. Ragged, tired gasps rattled Robert. He paused and glanced back after a twentieth stride. The family continued on, muddy, soaked, and unabated. A figure stood behind them, garbed in thick robes. Four skeletons flanked the figure. Robert's heart sank. ‘ _ Light above...I cant keep going…’  _

Robert turned and gestured violently. His voice roared over the torrential onslaught. “Run! Keep going and don’t look back!” His legs pushed on, flinging him forth. ‘ _ Akarat, let them listen…’  _ The cloaked figure threw its hand out. The skeletons converged, stabbing their spears out.

Robert collieded, shield brushing aside and scattering the furthest left skeleton. Three spear points hammered his cuirass. His breath wheezed out. The skeletons pulled their spears back and lashed out. Robert swung his mace. Steel cracked bone. Robert cried out, arm falling limp. His mace fell in the mud. The angel hair braid slumped over his mace. Two spear points pushed him back. Robert stepped forward and struck the left skeleton. The wet bones fell back, but immediately thrust their spear forth. A heavy weight struck his shoulder. Writhing wrongness wiggled under the impact. Dark sizzling pain bubbled over his skin. Robert grit his teeth and tucked his arm back. The spears lashed out, prodding ineffectually at his armor. Robert pummeled the wounded skeleton, scattering its bones. 

His gaze turned, and he swiveled. The final spear point dug in his elbow’s joint. His blood and bellow cut the air. Robert struck his shield on the skeletons arm. The fragile appendage snapped and fell. Pressing his left heel toward the skeleton, he slammed the full face of his shield over the skeleton's body. Bones scattered, dull flames licking them. Robert heaved heavy gasps and returned his eyes to the cultist.

His jaw fell slack. Hands outstretched, the cultist chanted in a dark tongue. A three ringed circle burned in hellish fire over the muddy ground. Within, a five pointed star spun lazily. Runes and strange symbols burned within, assaulting his mind and senses.  _ ‘I don’t...what...no…’  _ Robert pulled himself up and stepped forward.

The cultist yelled a final word and the circle blackened. A figure pulled itself up, breaking through the heavy rain. Robert stepped back. The figure wrenched itself free, swinging a heavy maul in one hand. It stood seven feet tall, pale blue and heavily muscled.. Horrid iron plates riveted deep in its arms, and a muzzle of solid metal dug in its face. Massive screws stuck up from the plate, apparently holding them fast to the creatures flesh. The cultist pointed and spoke. It looked at Robert.

Cold fear washed over him. Robert stilled himself and stepped forward. The creature sprinted forth, howling a blood chilling gurgle under its mask. Robert held his shield up. The heavy maul swung. Steel met iron, and Robert's arm opened wide.  _ ‘Such strength!’  _ The beast reared back, burning the maul over itself.

Robert knelt and brought his shield between them. A heavy blow struck him to the earth. Robert cried out. His shield remained between the two. He desperately struck his legs out. Mud sloshed away. Another impact rang against his shield. Robert tilted his head and pushed himself back. The creature choked up its hammer, and lashed it forth. His eyes tracked the weapon, dully noting it would hit his head. Robert sluggishly pulled up his shield. The beast's maul struck his helmet. Sharp ringing joined full darkness, and Robert fell.


	30. Chapter 30

Wind howled through Tagaan’s mane. The young ram shook his head, shivering against the mountain cold. ‘ _Rika said I would find it near the summit…’_ His hooves shifted cautiously. The small footpath wound deeper out of sight, far into the drifting snow. Tagaan held up his torch and peered into the distance. His left side trailed off a nearby slope, opening into the void. The rock of his right rose higher into the mountain. ‘ _Ancestors...I’ve never been so high up…’_ A gust of wind flicked his flame. Tagaan huffed and tugged his bear cloak tighter. 

Breath drew heavy through his lungs. ‘ _So...hard...to breathe…’_ His right hand pushed out and pressed against the rock wall. Seeping cold pierced him. His left hoof skid slightly. A surge of adrenaline warmed his heart. ‘ _To narrow a passage. Need to be careful.’_ His spear butt prodded the snowy path. ‘ _Solid...solid...solid…’_ Tagaan stepped forward. The butt of his spear pushed out. ‘ _Solid...slick...solid…’_ Tagaan stepped forward. 

Tagaan meticulously ascended, prodding the uncertain snow before every step. ‘ _Don’t wan’t to slip this high up.’_ A shiver wracked through him. ‘ _So far away from_

 _home...who would collect my horn?’_ Tagaan flicked his cold ears. ‘ _All the more reason to succeed this trial…’_ An eagle's cry sounded over the glacial wind. ‘ _So far from home…’_

Tagaan rounded a sloping bend. A stark rock face towered before him, rounded by the pathway. Tagaan heaved a ragged sigh and continued his assent. His spear prodded the ground intermittently. ‘ _No need to be as cautious, I’m away from that ledge.’_ His hooves carried him deeper into the swirling white. Painfully cold aches crested ever higher. _‘How long have I hiked?’_ Tagaan huffed. The freezing air bit his lungs. Tagaan clutched his chest and coughed. Dreadful hacking flung spittle and loosened his chest. ‘ _How high am I? I don’t really know…’_

Tagaan’s fur cling to his frame, the slow melting of drifting flakes matting it down. Tagaan pulled his torch close and shivered. ‘ _This would be impossible without this little torch…’_ His steps slowed. His body trembled and shook. ‘ _Even with it…’_ Tagaan spurred his legs and continued higher. ‘ _I need to find that shelter soon. Rest, dry, and warm up…’_ His ears flicked humorously. ‘ _Ancestors...doesn’t that sound nice?’_

The trail before him rounded the mountainous spire and split deeper into the mountain. A deep valley of broken rock and ice loomed ahead of him. Unease prickled Tagaan’s mind. ‘ _Something feels off about that valley…’_ A low growl rumbled in his throat. ‘ _I don’t know what though. Best to be cautious…’_ Tagaan stepped forth, studiously testing the ground before him. 

The valley opened wide, revealing a channel of icy shadow. Tall, uneven rocks dotted the ground. Wind howled through the valley, loud and unrelenting. ‘ _Norag’s fang, but that is unnerving…’_ His torch cast light before him. The footpath wound through the rocks and into the darkness. ‘ _I must succeed...I must.’_ Tagaan lifted his torch and shivered. _‘Fear nor cold nor foe will stop me.’_ His resolve stiffened his gut. ‘ _I_ will _be blessed. By my fathers before me, I_ will _be blessed.’_ Tagaan steeled himself and stepped into the valley.

The wind closed tight. Pressure built in the chasm, choking Tagaan’s mind. Howling eddies blew through. His torch flicked. Tagaan stifled his panic and shook himself. ‘ _It cannot be extinguished by nature…’_ His light diminishes. Terror, colder than the winds around him, sunk in his heart. The flames of his torch lessened. ‘ _It_ cannot _be extinguished by nature. It cannot be…’_ Tagaan repeated the mantra, holding the torch closer. The warmth steadied his heart.

Tagaan’s hooves trudged further and further into the valley. A strange whistling echoed in the valley. Tagaan’s hackles raised. ‘ _That was not the wind.’_ The torch flicked in the cold ravine. Tagaan turned slowly, peering through the darkness. ‘ _Where did it come from...where?’_ A short huff released some of his stress. His hooves stirred into motion, cautiously continuing forward. ‘ _No point stressing…’_ A deep shiver tickled his spine. ‘ _Either it’s ahead and I’ll meet it, or it’s behind and I’m moving away.’_ His ears strained against the chill wind. ‘ _Could still be prepared though…’_ Tagaan gripped his spear tight. His arm wrapped around the pole, and the butt pressed against his shoulder. ‘ _It won’t stop me...it won’t stop me…’_ Tagaan echoed the hollow mantra. His hooves stepped slow and silent. 

Tagaan flicked his eyes about. The oppressive dark loomed in. A whistle cut through the air. ‘ _Closer this time…’_ Numbness built under his hide. Stiffness consumed his joints. ‘ _Can’t move right in this cold…’_ Anxiety bubbled. Tagaan walked forward, rounding a tall ice block. The whistle sounded. His hackles bared. Tagaan gripped his spear tighter. ‘ _It won’t stop me…’_ More icy boulders dot the landscape before him. Tagaan continued his cautious advance, weaving between the obstructions. The wind howled. His teeth chattered. Tagaan looked above and beyond. ‘ _Half way through? Maybe six steps of ten?’_ Steely resolve stiffened his spine. ‘ _Good. I_ will _be out of here soon.’_ His steps fell along unabated. Strong wind ruffled his mane, increasing in pressure and speed. Tagaan champed his teeth. His ears pressed flat to his skull.

Rending cold slowed Tagaan’s body. Every step fell slower than the last. Tagaan spurred himself, righting his pace. Weakness pierced him. _‘Should be...should be three of four to the end…’_ Tremors waxed over him. His body shivered. Dull fogginess clouded his senses and mind. The unnerving whistle pierced the sky, sharpening swiftly. A heavy thud hit the earth behind him. 

Tagaan spun and braced his spear. The flickering darkness revealed a winged creature. The beast, easily the size of a man, clacked it’s sharp hind talons to the icy rock. Membranous wings terminated the firearms. Powerful hooks glint in the wings tips. It’s hound like head snapped, remaining eerily quiet. A long sinuous tail whipped behind it. Lean muscle covered it’s wiry frame, and a red light pulsed within. Tagaan bared his teeth. ‘ _A Molok. Pack hunters…’_ His hooves picked a steady pace backward. ‘ _Savage and upfront…’_ The beast leapt forward, retaining a small distance. A haunting whistle pulled past its spread wings. ‘ _The source at last…’_

Claws ticked the ground, circling the wary Khazra. Tagaan glanced aside every few steps, gauging the path behind him. ‘ _I won’t make it out of this valley this way…’_ A cold fear joined the howling wind. ‘ _I need to confront it…’_ His fingers tapped uneasily. Breath drew ragged and harsh. ‘ _A true demon...how best to fight this…’_ The creature snarled its fiendish maw, silent and furious. ‘ _It’s sizing me up too. Smarter than it looks.’_ Tagaan waved his head slowly. His hooves continued their steady path. ‘ _Hmm...it seems hungry…’_ Tagaan glanced to its eyes. ‘ _Desperate even?’_ The beast snarled and snapped it’s powerful jaws. ‘ _Yes… it is hungry.’_ Tagaan intentionally loosened his shoulders and pulled his head down. His arms dropped slightly. ‘ _Look small and weak. Act like prey.’_ Tagaan fidgeted and hunched over himself. ‘ _Trigger its instincts. Entice the predator and strike.’_ His muscles tensed and coiled. ‘ _Run four steps, turn and lunge.’_ The wind howled. Stillness fell over the chasm. Tagaan filled his lungs, and ran.

His hooves struck the icy ground and hurled him forward. The horrible whistle cut the air. ‘ _Two steps…’_ His arms pumped and prepared. ‘ _Three steps…’_ Adrenaline spiked. ‘ _Four.’_ Tagaan spun upon his right hoof, pulling his spear level to his shoulder. The Molok soared, scant paces away. Tagaan lunged and shoved the spear forth. Steel hit scale. Flesh parted around his spear and sunk deep. The Molok’s weight slammed him. Tagaan spun and hit the ground. A sharp tug wrenched his spear away. The molok slammed the earth. 

Writhing and snarling, the Molok jerked itself upright. Searing blood splashed Tagaan’s fur. Small sparks hissed from it’s snapping jaws. Tagaan widened his eyes and pushed himself. His hooves scraped the ground and found purchase. A gust of hellfire singed his fur. The horrid black-red flame stuck and burned him. Tagaan bayed. Outrage, pain, and fear strengthened his limbs. His left hand, still clutching the torch, swung. The Molok flapped it’s wings, pushing back. Tagaan grazed by its face. A sharp impact shoved him down.

Fangs sunk deep in Tagaan’s right shoulder. Tagaan spun his body, driving his free elbow firmly against a stony hide. _‘Another! Ancestors!’_ A pained grunt whispered from the Molok’s opening jaws. Tagaan pressed. The two figures rolled. The molok hit its back, wings flapping the air. Tagaan dropped his torch. His hands seized the beast’s head. Power built. Horns met skull.

Sharp ringing pain clouded Tagaan’s visage. A deep twinge pulled his shoulder. The Molok fell back. More angry hisses joined the chill wind. Tagaan shoved himself back. His eyes swiftly scanned his foes. ‘ _Speared one weak.’_ The first Molok tapped its claws against the earth. His spear choked its movement. The butt jarred the ground, halting a lunge. _‘Ambusher dizzy.’_ The second Molok flapped it’s wings and staggered away. It’s head lulled and dipped. Tagaan stirred his legs and pushed himself upright. A rock pushed against his back. Tagaan heaved and gasped. Blood congealed swiftly, chilled and matted beneath his fur. ‘ _Don’t need to worry over blood loss.’_ Light danced in the valley. His torch blazed in the wind, unyielding and bright. The two Moloks snarled and glared. Their long wings fluttered aggressively. Tagaan pulled his cloak tight. ‘ _I’m outnumbered, but one is wounded.’_ A dull throb pulsed through his torso. ‘ _I am too, but not bad.’_ Claws tapped the ice. Tagaan tensed himself and narrowed his eyes. The two figures circled around him, just beyond the torchlight. ‘ _Waiting for me…’_ A deep shiver wracked his frame. ‘ _And I can't outwait them...I don’t have fire in my blood…’_ Tagaan steadied his breath. ‘ _Only one choice then.’_ Steely resolve settled in his gut. ‘ _Attack. Strike down the wounded one swiftly. Get a fair fight.’_ Adrenaline burned his blood. Tagaan crouched, shifting his weight forward. A Molok snapped its jaws. Breath filled Tagaan’s chest, and he lept.

Wind brushed by Tagaan’s stiff ears. His blood pumped. Tagaan slammed his hooves forth, sprinting to the wounded Molok. It’s companion sprung. Tagaan tucked his head and surged. The second Molok soared behind him. His spear rattled the ground, halting the wounded ones retreat. Tagaan’s right hoof rooted near the demon. Terrible momentum surged behind horns. Tagaan threw his weight forth, crashing against the Molok’s head. Splitting agony dazed him. Something tore within his shoulders. Black blood scattered from the Molok’s head, exposing vile brain matter. The demon staggered away, wings flapping out of rhythm. Tagaan clutched his aching skull and flung his hooves forward. The ground rose before him and struck his knees. ‘ _Dazed...no...bad…’_ Ragged pants tore his throat. Tagaan turned and crawled to the twitching corpse. His hands closed over his spear and pulled. The Molok flapped it’s wings and kicked it’s legs. Sharp talons rent hide. Blood seeped down Tagaan’s leg. Tagaan pulled and twisted, planting his leg in the beast’s chest. Sparking embers coughed out. Hot, sulfuric breath wheezed. His spear jostled and slid. Sharp fangs sank deep in his calf. Tagaan howled his pain and fury. His hands clenched tight and yanked. His spear popped from the creature's chest. Dark ichor spewed forth, steaming on the snow. Tagaan reversed his spear's grip and thrust behind him. 

Steel skid off scale. Tagaan lost balance and stumbled forward. His left leg struck out. His hoof slammed something firmly and hot breath washed over him. The jaws detached. Tagaan scrambled forward, hands scraping against the rough ground. Cuts and scratches bled his strength. His body twisted and faced the demon. A deep cut bled ichor over its red eyes, and the demon staggered forward. Fire filled its mouth. Baleful spite burned its dark eyes. Tagaan pulled his feet beneath him. His powerful legs sprung again, hurling him forward. Howling wind stung his eyes and wounds. The Molok opened its jaw and spat a roiling cloud of hellfire. A mighty thrust pushed the spear tip through the beast’s mouth.

Ichor drenched steel exploded from the demons skull. Steam filled the air. Fire licked over Tagaan’s face. Searing pain lanced through his addled mind. He swiftly flung himself down and rolled in the snow. The hellish flames died down. Tagaan clutched his stomach and wheezed. Painful burns kicked him. Dull throbbing wounds howled. Tagaan tugged his spear. The pole jerked in place. A rough cough dislodged his phlegm. Tagaan planted his hooves and heaved. His spear broke loose, dragging the corpse a short distance. The wounded Khazra paused and fell back. Quick, shallow breaths dispelled his adrenaline. Tagaan whimpered and rubbed his wounded shoulder. Cold wind chilled his frame, and the valley fell quiet.

Flickering light caught his attention. His eyes locked to the fallen torch. Blessed flame burned against the cold, bright and defiant. _‘Ancestors...I need help…’_ Tagaan limped and gripped the torch. His right calf stiffened and cramped. His weight shifted uneasily. ‘ _A shelter ahead...Rika said...beyond the valley…’_ Tagaan moved forward, slow and weak. ‘ _Just beyond…just beyond…’_ His breath drew heavy. Ice clung under his wounds. Tagaan grit his teeth and shoved himself forward. 

The great chasm fell behind him, opening into the mountain peak. A great climb of snowy rock loomed above. Small totems of carved bone decorated a well traveled pathway. Many paths forked into the grand walkway, his own included. Swirling snow gusted, clouding distant sight. A cave, covered in a massive overhang and heavy tarps, dug in the slope above. Tagaan’s heart hammered. Relief struck his fatigue. ‘ _The shelter! So close…’_ He stirred himself, right leg dragging a trail in the snow. 

Glacial wind hammered the Khazra, stilling his progress. Tagaan hunched tightly over his core, and pushed. His left hoof stepped forward. A scrape heralded his right hoof drawing along its twin. Tagaan heaved heavy breaths. A powerful shove moved him further up the slope. ‘ _One step...and another…’_ Tagaan drug himself further. ‘ _Almost...there…’_

The dark cave opened before the wounded Khazra. Cold air swept past the entrance, creating eddies of drifting snow. Tagaan threw himself through the entranceway and hit his knees. His hide stung. Pinpricks of lingering cold washed over him. _‘Out of the wind…’_ Tagaan pushed himself up and huffed a pained laugh. ‘ _Finally out of that wind.’_ Extremities still numb, he gazed about the cave. The cavern sunk deep and spacious. Several barrels lay along the left wall, and a well made stove rest on the right. Piles of dry lumber sat nearby the stove. Thirty strides in, the cave ended in several thick bedrolls. A figure watched him from the nearest, clutching a spear like his own.

Tagaan clenched his hands and scrutinized the stranger. Heavy fur coats covered their frame. Two sharp horns peaked above their cowled head. Paint adorned the left horn, a beautiful swirling of black and blue. Tagaan relaxed and released the tension in his ears. ‘ _Another Khazra...Thank the ancestors…’_ He planted his spear and shoved himself up. ‘ _Moon clan. At least they can be reasoned with, unlike the blood clan.’_ The figure watched him approach silently. Tagaan halted himself a respectful distance away, and stamped his right hoof. Weariness cracked his voice. “I greet you, Moon clan.” He tipped his head. “I am Tagaan.”

The figure lifted their head. “Hello, Tagaan of Sun clan.” A soft, feminine voice responded. “I am Gorinna.” She fell quiet and lowered her head. Tagaan flicked his ears. ‘ _Not much for words, is she?’_ Burning curiosity struck him. ‘ _And what is a_ woman _doing out here? She could be hurt…’_

Tagaan lifted his ears and set aside his spear. “Are you lost?” His ears lolled forward. Looseness softened his appearance. “Do you need help, Gorinna?” Tagaan knelt. Pain shot through his body. He flicked his ears and maintained eye contact.

Gorinna groaned quietly. Tagaan heard her ears flick. “No, I am not.” Profound irritation tinged her voice. “No, I do not.” Tagaan tensed his shoulders. “Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I am hurt.” Anxiety spiked in his heart. “No, I don’t need your ‘protection’, and no, I am not too young for this.” Her eyes tilted and met his. Steely brown pinned him down. “Does that cover it? Are we done now?”

Tagaan placed his spear aside and lowered his torch. _‘I...but…’_ Tagaan mewled softly. Pains and aches spread. “You’re…” His jaw worked silently.

Gorinna wrapped herself tightly in her coats. Her spear settled over her knees. “...A woman? Annoying? A shame to my ancestors?” Anger built behind her eyes. Her tone remained even.

Tagaan shook himself and placed his torch aside. “You’re hurt?” Worry pulled his ears. Tagaan pushed himself up and ready. A sharp twinge pulled his shoulder. “Can I help? What hurt you?” Fearful anxiety bubbled in his core. 

Eyes softening, Gorinna paused. Several moments passed, and she pointed to her left arm. “Yes...bite wound from a fallen hound. It is deep.” Warriness replaced her annoyance. “Why? What care have you for me?” Her hands tapped against her spear.

Tagaan glanced over the room. ‘ _I don’t see any healing tools…’_ His hooves shifted uneasily. “Are your hurts treated?” A pause halted him. “And you are Khazra. Kin.” Confusion drooped his ears. “Why would I not care?” 

Gorinna fell silent and looked him over. “...Hmm.” Her fingers increased their tempo. “The Sun clan is too careless. Too trusting.” The emotion bled from her voice. “What if I was an assassin, here to ambush trail-goers?” Her legs shifted and settled in a more comfortable position.

Tagaan waved his hand. A deep and dismissive snort left him. “And the Moon clan is too secretive. If you’re an assassin, you’re not a good one.” Tickling pains emerged in his fingers. Sharp, rending agony built in his wounded calf. “Showing your wound and waiting where I can see?” He flicked his ears humorously. “That doesn’t sound proficient.” Tagaan rubbed his own bloody shoulder. “And you never said if your wound was treated or not.”

Gorinna huffed. “No, I did not.” Her legs shifted uneasily. “...And no, they have not been treated.” The wind slowed outside. “I had a satchel with a gut and thread, but…”

Tagaan flicked his ears forward. “You lost it?” Cold seeped slowly away. “I have some, and can bind your wound for you.” 

A laugh filled the cave. “I didn’t actually lose it.” Gorinna leaned forward. Triumphant mirth danced in her eyes. “I stabbed an imp with it.”

Tagaan tilted his head and flicked his ears. “You...stabbed an imp? With your needle?” Deep confusion settled over him. “And would you like me to bind your wound?”

Gorinna fell back and scrutinized him. Several seconds passed. Her ears flicked forward. “I would greatly appreciate that, Tagaan.” She leaned aside and lay down her spear. Several heavy ties secured her coats. Her fingers moved deftly, releasing the bindings. Gorinna shucked the outermost coat and placed it aside. Tagaan’s eyes followed her movement. ‘ _Making it this far...she is certainly capable.’_ A second, thinner coat followed the first. ‘ _Pretty too, now those coats are out the way.’_ Her horns caught his eye. ‘ _Long and sharp...just like they should be…’_ Humorous chastisement called out. “Stuff your tongue back in your mouth, Tagaan, and come help me.” Gorinna knelt on her bedroll, garbed in a simple tunic. 

Embarrassment yanked his ears back. “I… I was…” Tagaan flicked his ears and chuckled. “You’re…you are just very pretty.” He stood and approached her. A satchel, buried under his robes, appeared and plopped between them. “Please, forgive this rude male.” A needle and thread emerged, alongside three small jars.

Gorinna flicked her ears. “Hmm.” She turned her head aside and closed her eyes. “Close my wounds, and I shall consider it.” Mirth tinted her words. 

A short laugh escaped Tagaan. “As you wish, Gorinna.” He took up the largest bottle and unstoppered it. A pungent scent assailed him. ‘ _A good cleaner, at least.’_ Seriousness fell over his voice. “This will hurt.” He cautiously placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you ready?”

Gorinna flicked her ears forth. “Please, I’m not a melwing newborn.” Her palms tightened. “Go ahead.”

Tagaan gripped the bottle and tapped her hand with his. She opened her eyes and looked down. Brief hesitation crossed her eyes. Her strong hand gripped his and squeezed. Tagaan lifted the jar and tipped it. The sterile liquid dribbled over her bite. Gorinna mewled in her throat and clenched his hand. ‘ _Strong grip. Nice voice...ancestors below, she is quite the woman...’_ Tagaan set the jar aside and took up his needle and thread. She released his hand. Brief disappointment fluttered through him.‘ _Get her mind off the needle...hmm…’_ Tagaan leaned aside and caught her eye. “So...would you mind telling me how you ended up stabbing an imp?”

Another laugh warmed the cave. “Oh...very well.” The needle pricked her flesh. Gorinna flinched and continued. “But I warn you, it’s not grand or entertaining.” She cleared her throat and adjusted her posture. “I was traveling along the path up here.” Tagaan’s needle dipped in and out. “Halfway to here, a few imps decided to ambush me.” Pride crept in her voice. “The first was dead before it was sprung.” Tagaan hummed a question. “I saw their attempt, and reversed it. They did not expect to be charged from behind.” The needle dug in. A mewl built in her throat. Her hands tightened. “...anyway, it was three imps and their hound. Blasted things split the moment I arrived.” Pain tinged her voice. “One ran away. I think to alert more...I threw my spear and killed it.” Her muscle rolled beneath Tagaan’s hands. “The hound clamped on me. Thankfully, I know how they like to lock their jaws.” Tagaan pulled the string tight and inserted the needle again. “The last imp charged me, mad little thing, and I couldn’t use my right arm. It pressed me down and I couldn’t reach my knife, so I grabbed another sharp thing.” Tagaan looked over the closed wound. _‘Tough woman…’_ Amusement seeped into her voice. “It hit my back with its ratty little club, and I stabbed its eye with my sharp little needle.” Her voice lowered. “The hound took…longer, to deal with.” More cleaning liquid dribbled over the wound. “I ended up having to slam it against the ground until it let go. Then I had my knife and it was simple.” 

Several quiet seconds passed. Tagaan checked over the bindings and flicked his ears. “Well, I am impressed. Poor things never stood a chance, did they?” Tagaan leaned back and racked his mind to continue the conversation. “So...who taught you the blade? How to recognize an ambush?”

Gorinna rolled her eyes and took up her inner coat. “Clans huntmaster. Who else?” Tagaan opened his mouth. A sharp retort cut him off. “And I know I’m a woman. It took long enough to drill it through his head too.”

Tagaan sat back, folding himself into a more comfortable position. “But...why would you want to hunt? Shouldn’t you be worried about more... feminine things?”

Gorinna closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Survival does not care about your sex.” She glanced aside and met his eyes. “I have no male. No father, no mate, no older brothers.” Melancholy washed over her. “How else would me and my brother eat? He is only twelve summers. He cannot hunt. No one would hunt for us.” Her ears pressed back. “It is simple really; get food, or starve.”

Tagaan fell silent. “I…” His voice died. “I...I am sorry. What...what happened to your sire, if you don’t mind telling?”

“It is not your fault, and I do not.” Gorinna sat back against the cave wall. “My father was horn guard. He served honorably until a human ended his life. My mother left after. I don’t know where she is.” Her voice fell off.

Quiet took the cave. “I...still I am sorry.” Tagaan found his voice. “But...how is it you have no mate?” Confusion drew his brows. “You are...beautiful.”

A sharp laugh assailed him. “Oh, thank you. I’ve not heard a compliment for some time.” She met his eyes. Resentful anger bubbled within. “And your question...ask yourself, ‘What did I first think when I heard she was a hunter?’”

Tagaan prodded his still wounded shoulder. “I thought...I thought you should not be hunting. That you should be minding a home.” Shame burned his ears. “I...I did not even think that…”

Gorinna’s voice softened. “At least you moved past that…” Her arms wrapped around herself tightly. “None of my other ‘suitors’ could seem to let it go…” Fragility crept over her. “Not even...Vakk...I thought, for so long…”

Instinct pushed Tagaan up. He strode over and sat next to her. “Then...then they are foolish.” He cautiously slung an arm over her. “I think you beautiful and strong. Ideal for a mate.”

Gorinna chuckled and pushed him gently. “Thank you, Tagaan…” Humor warmed her speech. “But I’ll not rut with you just for that.”

Tagaan flinched back and withdrew his arm. “I...I...” Searing shame flushed over him. “I’d...I’m…”

A bright laugh warmed the cavern. “A jest, Tagaan. Easy.” Her bright eyes met his. “A jest. I don’t truly think that was your intention.” She jostled her arm, digging under his. “You’re good company so far.” A deep breath filled her lungs. “And closeness does not _have_ to mean that. It’s cold, you’re warm, and you’re polite enough.” Her weight shifted into him. “Cuddling seems fine, really.”

Tagaan stilled his breath and relaxed. “I...you’re right, of course.” His arm wrapped around her tightly. “It is cold, you are warm, and…” He jostled her slightly. “...You are good company.” A deep breath moved through him. 

Quiet fell over the cave. Gorinna pulled away. Tagaan blinked and withdrew his arm. Seconds later, she slung her heavy overcoat around their shoulders. Her weight dug back into his left side. ‘ _Smart girl…’_ Tagaan pulled her close and leaned his head aside. A dull throb pulsed from his shoulder. ‘ _Hmm...need to get that mended…’_ Moments drew long. Weariness ate away under Tagaan’s eyes. ‘ _...soon enough…’_ Sleep weighed heavy over him, he fell asleep clutching Gorinna tightly.

A nudge woke Tagaan. He blinked awake and grasped for his spear. A sharp stiffness choked his right arms movement. His hands fumbled over cold stone. Panic bled away. ‘ _I...I am in that cave...with…’_ He glanced over. Gorinna sat further away, eyes burning with mischief. Tagaan flicked his ears forward. ‘ _Right. I hardly feel like I slept at all…’_ Her arm ceased its shoving and retracted. The doe stood and stretched. Tagaan watched her body move, oblivious to her voice. ‘ _She is...something else entirely…’_ Her hoof struck his thigh firmly. Tagaan blinked and flinched back. Annoyance mixed with humor in her tone. “...I said, ‘You’ve been sleeping three hours past sunrise, so I thought I’d wake you.’” A chuckle softened her words. “Ah, males…”

His ears pressed back ruefully. “Well you see, I had this most wonderful dream…” Gorinna snorted and flapped her ears. “It’s true! There was this graceful maiden, we were in an icy cave, and we fell asleep in each other’s arms!” His aching limbs roused themselves. Tagaan stood. A dull twinge pulled his calf. “You wouldn’t have happened to see her, by chance?” His ears wiggled impishly.

“No, I’ve not seen any maidens up here.” She replied back swiftly. “But I did see a sweet, lost boy on the slopes.” She rebundled her clothing, tying it down firmly. “Felt pity, and let him cuddle with me overnight.” She flicked her ears, voice lilting wistful. “He was rather handsome. You haven’t happened upon him, hmm?” She glanced through the corner of her eye.

Tagaan laughed full and hearty. _‘Ancestors...oh how company dulls the cold!’_ He pat his chest and continued . “Ah, no unfortunately. Only that beautiful maiden.” Dull morning aches mellowed. “I’ll keep a lookout for your lost boy, though.” His ears flicked forth. 

“A shame.” Gorinna sighed and walked to a barrel. “I would have liked another cuddle.” Her hips swayed with her movement. Tagaan’s eyes locked to them. Hot blooded thoughts rose and were quashed down. “I suppose I can keep an eye out for graceful maidens meanwhile.” She shot Tagaan a sultry glance. “Friends help friends, after all…”

A heavy lump formed in his throat. “Of...of course.” Tagaan swallowed and cleared his throat. “...aside that…” Phlegm clung yet. Tagaan cleared his throat and looked away. “What are you doing up here, anyway?”

Gorinna withdrew several sachets of dried food. A deft toss ferried one to Tagaan. Hers swiftly opened and revealed a strip of meat and hardtack. Mouth already chewing, she took up her spear and responded. “Same as you, I suppose.” Her back bounced gently off the wall. “Looking for the blessings of the ancestors.” 

Tagaan dipped into his own satchel and chomped down. His ears flicked forward. “That does make sense.” He met her eyes, humor dancing within. “I was more asking _why, I_ guess.” A swallow of food soothed his empty stomach. “I’m here because…” Melancholy washed over him. “...Because my father is weak, and our clan needs champions now more than ever…” He bit into his food, and champed. “...My kin need someone to look to. Someone like my father was. A hero.”

A hand clapped his shoulder. Gorinna shook him gently. “That is a good reason, Tagaan.” Tagaan met her eyes. She squeezed gently. “I’m sure you’ll not be found wanting.” Her spear tapped the ground and she withdrew. More food entered her mouth. “And I’m here...well because I feel I need to be.” She glanced away, pensive thoughtfulness resting over her. “Some have started rumbling that I should not be doing as I am…” Tagaan grunt sympathetically. “...The humans are becoming more and more aggressive…” Tagaan flicked his ears solemnly. “...And the Spirit Blight is growing.” 

Tagaan lurched back. Crumbs tickled his throat, prompting vicious coughing. “I’m…” Tagaan cleared his throat and seized his voice. “I did not know that. That is dire news.” Gorinna flicked her ears. “Damn.” 

A short laugh snorted from her. “Damn indeed.” The wind outside howled, sunlight breaking through the peaks. “So, Tagaan of Sun clan…” She glanced behind herself. “Did you plan on climbing the peak all alone?” Her eyes returned. Practiced neutrality fell over her features. “Or would you not mind having company?”

Tagaan scooped up his ever burning torch and flicked his ears. “I wouldn’t mind company. And anyway, it’s safer to travel in pairs.”

Gorinna’s ears flapped forward. “I agree.” She bit the last part of her meal. “The mountain has grown ever more dangerous in recent years…” A quiet pause filled the cave. “...Well. No point in worrying. I’m ready, are you?” Tagaan poured the rest of his food down his gullet and flicked his ears. “Good. Let’s get moving then.” She pivoted and strode forth. 

Tagaan swallowed and jerked himself into motion. Grasping his spear, Tagaan jogged after her. “Wait a moment!” Gorinna paused. His steps fell beside hers. “You really don’t waste time, do you?” His ears twitched wryly. 

Gorinna chuckled and continued. “Well… repeat that, hmm?”

Confusion crossed his face. “What…’you really don’t waste time?’” Realization struck him. “Ah. Right. Don’t suppose anyone really likes ‘wasting’ time…”

Gorinna waved her hand. “Oh, just a jest. But, no.” She glanced back. “I don’t like wasting time. Never have.” The cold wind burst over them. Gorinna tightened her coats and Tagaan hunched over. Dull pains assailed his scabbing wounds. ‘ _Damn it. Never got those mended…’_ A heavy grunt rumbled his chest. Gorinna’s ear twitched and she glanced back. Tagaan blinked and waved his hand dismissively. ‘ _Good pair of ears on her.’_ Hesitation crossed her face before she flicked her ears and moved on. “By the way…” Her voice carried softly over the gale. “Your torch. It seems nice.”

Tagaan rolled his stiff shoulders. “It is.” His fingers settled comfortably over his spear and torch. “Blessed by Rika, my clan’s high shaman.” Pride flicked his ears and tinged his voice. “She is one of my family's old friends. Gave it to my father long ago.” He extended the torch and gazed over it. “No force of nature can extinguish it. Only a thinking being can change it.” Tagaan blinked and shuddered. “Ever-burning. A good torch.”

Gorinna slowed her pace, falling alongside Tagaan’s long stride. “A great gift. And a most useful one.” The wind ruffled her heavy coats. Tagaan’s eyes drifted over her agile form. “Would you be willing to share it?” He snapped his eyes back. “My fingers are very cold.”

“Of course.” Tagaan paused and leaned his spear against his shoulder. The torch passed to Gorinna. An appreciative murmur fell beneath the wind. Tagaan hunched tighter over himself and continued on. “I think we should reach the peak by noon.” The sun broke through the clouds, illuminating the wintry peak. Swirling eddies of snow blew by, and the woodlands below warmed to life. “What do you think?”

A strong gust stole their warmth. “I agree. It shouldn’t take too much longer.” Her hands clutched his torch. “And…” Gorinna glanced downhill. “...most the beasts come out at night time anyway. So…” A shiver wracked her. “...We probably don’t have to worry about delays.” She paused and stilled her breath. “Shouldn’t, anyways…”

Tagaan’s hooves clacked a steady rhythm. The mountain pass stretched high above and far below. Bright glimmers reflected in the snow. Great icy rocks split the earth. The wind calmed, roar dying to a whisper. The two Khazra ascended the well worn trail, approaching the mountain summit. Idle words traded between them, lost under the gentle breeze. In the distance, an elk whistled a long and lasting cry. 

Tagaan slowed and perked his ears. ‘ _Sounds hurt…wolves aren’t hunting yet...bear?’_ A low growl shook his chest. ‘ _Demon?...human?’_ He glanced aside. Gorinna held her spear ready. Her eyes met his. She flicked her ears forth. Tagaan flicked his ears and unhunched his frame. Slipping his posture lower, he gripped his spear and moved up the path, torch held high and ready.

The wounds of yesterday pulled his movements unsteady. A partial limp grew in his right leg. His right arm hitched higher. Tagaan grunt and moved onward.

Gorinna whispered a question. “Tagaan...are you hurt?” She gripped his shoulder and tugged gently. Tagaan hissed quietly. “Or is this limp normal?” 

A pause stretched between them. Tagaan pressed his ears back. “No...it is not normal.” Gorinna released his shoulder. “I was bitten by a Molok yesterday.” A piercing, accusing stare lanced him. He rolled his shoulders. “It’s not that bad. Bit on my calf and shoulder.” 

Scathing criticism reached him. “ _Just bit on my calf and shoulder_ , he says.” Tagaan sheepishly glanced aside. “ _Just limping and hurt,_ he says.” Gorinna pressed her ears back and tightened her grip. “Ancestors below, you're as bad as my brother.” She paused a brief moment. “Do you at least have medicine? For the pain? Infection?”

Tagaan winced and stirred his hooves. “No...no I don’t have medicine.” Gorinna huffed and followed. “It should be fine. Molok fangs usually seal the wound…” 

Gorinna spat. “Oh sure, _normally._ ” Agitation shook her ears. “ _Normally,_ someone would carry medicine for a long journey. _Normally,_ someone would get their wounds checked over.” She shook her head, anger apparent. A gentle breeze ruffled her heavy coats. “ _Normally..._ Damn it Tagaan. You should have mentioned them last night.” Fragile pain crept in her voice. “I would have bound them for you.”

Tagaan huffed. “I…” His ears flicked. “Ancestors, what is it with women and nagging?” The wind chilled his face. “Always clucking and worrying over every little thing…” Resentment bubbled over his voice. “Why not just leave us be, hmm?”

Silence fell between them. Gorinna halted mid-stride. “Cooraan’s beating heart, Tagaan.” She hugged her spear tightly. “If it offends you so much, just ignore me.” Her ears slapped back. “Everyone else does.”

Shame burned him. “Gorinna, I…” She huffed and moved on. “Wait! I am sorry, truly.” Her steps halted and she turned to face him. “I...appreciate it. It’s just…” His jaw worked silently. “Just...why? Why do you care? I mean…” He gesticulated vaguely. “I seem alright enough, and you’ve only barely met me.”

Gorinna sighed and gripped his shoulder. “It...I am sorry too, Tagaan.” She squeezed gently. “I know how it hurts to be chastised…” Her hand fell. Tagaan immediately missed the warm contact. “It just...I…” She rolled her shoulders. “I just...feel helpless, and responsible.” She gripped her shoulder and hunched over herself. “You came in last night and bound my wound. No questions, no demands…” Her voice trailed off. The wind blew gentle eddies of drifting snow. “You...you could have done much worse, Tagaan. You could have demanded I rut with you for aid.” A shrug rolled her shoulders. “You could have just raped me.”

Horrified disgust washed through him. Tagaan stomped his hoof. “No! I...I would never!” Terror chilled his gut. “I...just the...no!”

Gorinna raised her hand and pat his shoulder. “No, you wouldn’t.” She walked onward. “You actually seem like a good person, Tagaan. But…” Her ears fluttered. “See it from my eyes...A powerful male from another clan finds me.” Tagaan planted his spear and watched her. “It is cold and we are far from any other Khazra. I was hurt and tired.” Her steps stilled. “He could walk over and through me to the ground. There is nothing I could have done.” A low mewl shuddered Tagaan’s chest. “I am reviled even among my own clan. Who would seek justice, assuming I even survive?” She shrugged and lowered her head. “Who would care? I might even have to bear his child. Who would help?” A low sigh drifted with the breeze. “No one. I was helpless...at your mercy.” The sun fell behind the clouds. Flakes of snow trickled from the sky. “Perhaps it shouldn’t be exceptional that you helped me for nothing.” Another shrug lifted her frame. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have to fear. But I do, and it is.” 

She shook her head and huffed. “So...that is _why_ I care. Because I _like_ you, Tagaan.” Her eyes traced the floor. “Because you helped me for nothing. That you were hurt, and didn’t tell me…” She shrugged and continued her walk. “It made me feel even more helpless. Even more a burden. I...I just nagged to try and help. To try and feel...useful.” 

Tagaan lunged forward and gripped her shoulder. “Gorinna...I...I am so sorry…” He tightened his slack jaw. “Please, I just…” His ears pressed down. “Don’t feel useless. You...you said yourself that you feed you and your brother.” He squeezed gently. “Surely you’re not useless. You...you are…”

Gorinna chuckled weakly. “Thank you, Tagaan. But it’s not so simple.” Her hand pat his.

Tagaan released her shoulder. “Well...well fine then.” His ears perked. “I will just listen to your nagging then. And continue to reassure you.”

A laugh warmed the air. “Oh...oh alright Tagaan.” She waved her hand and walked onward. “And...thank you.”

Tagaan flicked his ears forth and fell alongside her. “Of course.” His hands clenched. Alertness returned to his senses. “Now...let’s continue. And let’s be wary...we still don’t know what killed that elk.” Gorinna huffed in agreement.

The mountain increased in volume. Snow swept over the sky, blanketing the sun. The two Khazra trekked onwards, hunching against the billowing wind. The far off valleys fell under the shade. Cold built in their veins. Their breath grew heavy and fogged the air. 

Tagaan and Gorinna crest the hill. A small plateau reached from the mountain side. Seven tall bone totems struck defiantly towards the sky, circling a fine cast brazier and rings of painted rock, mimicking the colors of the totems. 

Tagaan’s eyes locked to the Sun clan’s spirit totem. Three Khazra tall and wider than his arms could close, well chiseled stone rested one atop another. Swirling runes of white and blue covered the surface. His ears flicked forth, and he allowed his gaze to turn to the other totems. _‘Moon clan...blue and black. Tree clan, green and black.’_ He cast his gaze right. A snarl broke his visage. _‘Blood clan...red and black…’_ He calmed himself and continued, reaffirming his memory. ‘ _Dust clan, red and yellow. Rain clan, white and green. Ice clan...white and black.’_ He flicked his ears forth and glanced at Gorinna. Her eyes trailed over the totems. Tagaan stamped his hoof softly. She looked over and flicked her ears forward. 

Tagaan walked forward and knelt before the brazier. The wind gusted around them, chilling and strong. He laid his spear aside and held his torch high. Gorinna knelt beside him, setting aside her own spear and folding her hands in her lap. Her eyes met his. She flicked her ears forward. Tagaan swallowed and imitated the gesture.

The wind stirred his mane. Tagaan filled his lungs and exhaled slowly. He cleared his throat and touched his torch to the carved stone within.

Glorious flame erupted, banishing the drifting snow. The logs of stone, shapen as wood, flickered and burned powerfully. Red runes of flame sustained their roar. Tagaan laid the torch aside and folded his hands in his lap. The seven painted pillars reflected the brilliant light. “Ancestors of old, champions of the first days, I beseech you: Grant me audience.” The well rehearsed phrase flowed from his lips. Gorinna intoned the words alongside him.

The air fell quiet. Ancient power rumbled beneath them and filled the totems. Old, weather worn runes flared to life. Several seconds later, the power subsided and drained from the pillars. The air returned, howling through the peak. The sun and moon totem remained illuminated, and thrummed gently. 

A flash blinded the pair. Tagaan blinked away the dazzling light. A spectral figure stood before each totem. Old clothing lay over the mighty figures, and their unwavering gazes fell over Tagaan and Gorinna. Tagaan pressed his head down. Profound awe tickled him. _‘The ancients…the first…’_ Dryness assailed his lips and tongue. Tagaan swallowed and flicked his ears. “Venerable ancients…” His voice shook and cracked. A deep breath stilled him. “I, Tagaan of the Sun Clan, stand before you and request your strength.” Gorinna’s words followed his, addressing the ancient of her own clan. 

The spirit walked forward and stomped his hoof. Relief washed over Tagaan, and he reared his head. Recognition burned his mind. The figure rested his axe, Man-bane, and spoke above the howling wind. “Greetings, Tagaan. You grow well.” The figures' colossal frame lay under a heavy fur cloak. Powerful, distinctive horns swept behind his head. Hundreds of warrior braids hung upon his great mane and beard. Scars of horrid wounds, long closed, dot what hide Tagaan could see. “I had wondered when you too would seek the might of the ancients.”

The voice sparked Tagaan’s memory. _‘The same voice as in the shrine of elders...Eabo…’_ Tagaan wet his lips and consciously stilled his ears. A faint conversation sounded from his right. Similar phrases traded between Gorinna and the founder of her tribe. ‘ _Faanaakaan, the hunter of the moon…’_ The wind slowed around them, and the great brazier radiated warmth. “Honor to you, venerable ancestor. I thank you graciously for your answer.”

Eabo chuckled and stamped his hoof. “You can drop the formalities, descendant.” Humorous warmth danced in his ethereal eyes. “There are no shaman here to clout you.” A sharp gleam crossed his visage. “But I must ask; what makes you believe you are worthy of our clan’s power?”

Tagaan stilled himself and drew inward. ‘ _Why...why should I hold that power?’_ He flicked his ears. His hooves shuffled uncomfortably. ‘ _I am not my sire, or my grand-sire...I am not mighty and brace as they…’_ His palms clenched and relaxed. ‘ _There are so many more capable...so many more deserving...Becc...Haacaan…’_ Tagaan sighed and lowered his head. “I am not worthy, ancestor.” He opened his palms and traced the weathered lines. “I lack the strength of my father. The courage of my grand-sire. The skill of our huntmaster.” Strength built in his heart. Steely resolve closed his hand. “But...but I am all we have. Our kin will look to me for guidance, protection, and leadership.” He raised his head and met Eabo’s unwavering stare. “I am _not_ worthy, venerable one. But I _must_ hold that power. To light the darkened times ahead. To protect our people. To march forward, to the morning sun.”

Eabo flicked his ears solemnly. “I hear your words, Tagaan.” A chuckle softened his steely visage. “You sound so much like your father...he said nearly the same thing.” His ears wiggled humorously. “And like your father, you are plenty worthy.” Elation flipped Tagaan’s ears before he could still himself. Eabo cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Tagaan, young of my young, I deem you worthy of the Sun Clan’s strength.” He raised his palm. “Use this strength to guide our people.” Power built within. “Use this strength to protect our kin.” Eabo pressed his palm to Tagaan’s forehead. “Use this strength to bring hope.”

A primordial flame burst in Tagaan’s heart. Terrifying might roared to life beneath his skin. The cold vanished and his scars sunk away. Tagaan gasped and dropped to his hands. The ancient power seared along his veins and rebuilt his flesh. Flickers danced across his hide. Tagaan stilled his breath. The flame subsided, burning gently beneath his skin. Tagaan pushed himself up, staggering back. ‘ _Every muscle...every limb…’_ Tagaan clenched his palms. His toughened hide creaked under the strain. ‘ _Ancestors below...the power!’_

Eabo stepped back and stomped his hoof. Tagaan returned his attention and swiftly knelt. “You felt a great flame within, yes?” Tagaan flicked his ears forward. “That is our might. It waxes and wanes with our convictions. If ever you are in need, the flame will spring to life and aid you.” The spectral figure slowly broke apart, returning to the pillar. “And to use it...I have found envisioning lumber made of our own body, and feeding the flames to be effective.” Tagaan bowed his head and flicked his ears. “Be wary though...such usage is dangerous.” The last wisps of his ancestor paused. “I know you will be a great chieftain, Tagaan. Go, and bring our clan honor.” The Light faded from the Sun Clan pillar. 

Tagaan fell still. ‘ _A great chieftain? I...had always assumed...but I never really thought…’_ Tagaan straightened himself. His hooves pressed to the ground firmly. ‘ _No. I_ will. _I will be. I will lead our people.’_ The flame within sparked. Tagaan shook his head and took up his spear and torch. ‘ _The cold...I don’t even feel it anymore…’_ He glanced aside. Gorinna knelt before her ancestor, speaking softly. The spectral figure, tall and imposing, knelt across from her. His keen eyes watched every movement, and weighed every word. Tagaan flicked his ears back and strode away. ‘ _Must wait a moment...she will be done soon.’_

Tagaan took up his spear and leveled it before him. ‘ _So much lighter...everything is so much clearer…’_ He placed his torch down and took up the Swooping Hawk. His body flowed through the movements, mighty and controlled. The flame within burned brighter, sparked on by his movement. His movements accelerated. Tagaan breathed heavy and strong. The flame roared. His mind fell quiet. Elation and joy simmered within. 

A gasp caught his attention. Tagaan whirled about. Gorinna fell forward and caught herself on her hands. Faanaakaan retracted his palm and spoke softly. Gorinna caught her breath. The doe straightened herself and stood. Tagaan’s eyes wandered over her frame. ‘ _Even more lovely…’_ He blinked and flicked his ears. ‘ _No...no thinking like that. Calm yourself…’_

Several moments and several words passed between the two moon clan. Tagaan turned and picked up his torch. His gaze traveled over the world below. An ancient human building of stone stood far beneath him. Trees swayed in the wind. Tagaan sighed and tucked his spear in the crook of his arm. ‘ _What a wonderous sight…’_

A polite stomp caught his attention. Tagaan turned. A heavy weight struck his side. Gorinna wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “It worked! Tagaan, we are blessed!” Tagaan returned her embrace. “Oh, oh ancestors...I’m so happy…” Tagaan hummed his agreement. Several seconds passed. Gorinna’s hands trailed up his back. Her fingertip touched his spirit horn. 

Hot blooded arousal swept through him, mingling with alertness. Tagaan lurched back and pressed her away. Gorinna mewled a question. “I...Gorinna you are…” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I would love to, but…” His ears flicked back. “I swore to my mother I would make a proper woman of my Mate before I rutted her.”

Gorinna sighed and pulled her arms back. Her hands traced along his arms. Tagaan shuddered. Delight burned him. Honor restrained him. “That is commendable.” She gripped his hands and removed them. “A shame...you’re a fine male, Tagaan.” Tagaan glanced aside and flicked his ears. “So...would you make a proper woman of me?” Sarcasm poisoned her words. Bitterness built behind her eyes. 

Tagaan flicked his ears and answered immediately. “Definitely. You are...quite the woman.” Gorinna flinched back. A quizzical expression fell over her. “I would love you as a wife and mate.”

Gorinna paused. Her mouth opened and shut. “I...thank you, Tagaan.” She whispered. “That is...I…” Her ears pressed forward. “I…” Gorinna inhaled deeply and met his gaze. “I would love you as a husband and mate, Tagaan.” 

Whimsical joy flooded Tagaan. He gripped her hand between his. “We should...we should find a shaman to officiate it!” 

Gorinna flicked her ears and pressed to his side. “Yes. We should. But…” A shudder wracked her frame. “But...we should also...we should be slow…” Tagaan inhaled sharply. “Maybe we are rushing? We only...we only met yesterday…”

Tagaan rubbed her shoulder and pressed his head to hers. “I...you’re right. We are...I guess we might be rushing into it…” Gorinna’s ears flicked. “So...maybe you should just visit? Soon?” 

A sparkling laugh warmed his soul. “That… that sounds like a wonderful idea, Tagaan.” She sighed and closed her eyes. “That sounds wonderful. I will visit. I promise.”

  
Tagaan’s heart warmed. He gently squeezed her shoulder and looked to the lands below. ‘ _What a good day…’_ Gorinna slipped from his grip and walked down the path. Tagaan followed.


	31. Chapter 31

gaan sighed contently. Rolling his shoulder, the ram pulled his arm back. His hunting spear leveled high. Tagaan held his free arm forth, balancing his weight. His hoof shifted. His ears flicked. Tagaan stepped forward and hurled the thick pole. Many strides away, a strung up hay bale caught his spear. Tagaan looked over the target. His spear's sharpened tip hung in the small painted circle he drew. Satisfaction flapped his ears.  _ ‘More accurate, and stronger than ever!’  _ He glanced down his muscles arms. ‘ _ What a hunter I could be…’  _ Quiet laughs rumbled his chest. ‘ _ Ah, but no...I must be chieftain.’  _ Fiery resolve burned in his heart. Tagaan clenched his fist. ‘ _ For the good of us all.’ _

“Tagaan!” Daavi called. “Come! Your father wishes to speak with you!”

Tagaan turned and stretched himself. His mother stood in the brilliant morning sun, stringing up a pile of wet clothing. “Of course.” His ears perked happily. “What does he need done?”

Daavi snorted and flicked her ears back. “You know your father.” Well practiced ease smoothed her movements. “He simply said, ‘Fetch Tagaan, I would speak with him.’” A sarcastic gruffness lightened her words. 

Tagaan jogged forth, pausing near his mother. “Yes, he can be a bit terse, can’t he?” He squeezed her shoulder fondly. “I’ll go see what the old man wants. Don’t strain yourself, hmm?” Daavi thwacked his shoulder. A snicker escaped Tagaan while he turned. “I mean it! Laundry is a powerful foe.”

Daavi flicked her ears in bemusement, pointing away. “Stop pestering me and go, insolent son of mine.”

Tagaan huffed a laugh and ran on. “Fine, nagging mother of mine!” He called over his shoulder. Tagaan flicked his ears, running swiftly through the familiar woods. 

His family home rose from the trees, cheery and worn from their many years. Nostomo stood before the entrance. His imposing bulk dominated the scene. Tagaan reared his hand and slowed. “Ho, father!” Nostomo flicked his ears, left arm folded in. “Mother said you wished to speak with me?”

A powerful huff affirmed him. “Yes. Come, Tagaan. We should talk.” Nostomo gestured deeper towards the woods. His great hooves began a slow walk.

Tagaan easily fell alongside his father. “Of course, father. What are we talking about this morning?” Their steps matched each other’s, and the sounds of nature tinged their conversation. 

“You, Tagaan.” Nostomo regarded him steadily. “We are speaking of you, and your life.” His old weathered ears flicked. “Don’t worry, I don’t intend to nag.”

Tagaan flicked his ears, falling quiet. “Okay. What parts of my life do we speak of?” 

His father pat his shoulder, walking steadily through the woodlands. “Well, firstly I think we should talk about home.” Tagaan huffed a question. “You are a grown man, Tagaan. Fully blooded and greatly capable.” Nostomo gazed far away. “It would do you well to find a mate. Make a good home.” His ears wiggled amusedly. “Give me grandchildren.”

Tagaan flicked his ears forth. His thoughts immediately drifted to Gorinna. ‘ _ A home...a mate...a family…’ _ A burning enthusiasm rose within. “Ahh...I would agree, father.” He glanced away. “My eyes are already set upon someone…”

Nostomo paused and regarded him. “Yes...that...Gorinna? Was it?” His ears flicked. “You did sound smitten.” Nostomo pat his shoulder. “I care not who, so long as you love her.” His eyes hardened. “So...if you have your eyes set, why do I not have another daughter yet?”

Tagaan stumbled, choking the reply building in his throat. Nostomo gripped his shoulder, steadying him. Several hearty thumps cleared his throat. “Father, I…” Tagaan coughed and returned Nostomo’s grip. “...What in...what in the burning hells do you mean?”

A full bellied laugh eased the tension. “Oh, I only mean ‘why have you not claimed her yet?’” Tagaan dropped his hand and gently pushed Nostomo’s hand off. “You’re strong and the son of a chieftain, what woman  _ could _ refuse you?” Tagaan twitched his ears. ‘ _ That is true...but...what if she does not…’ _

Tagaan slowed. Nostomo turned and pressed his ears up. His ears flicked uneasily. “I...that is true, father. But…” Nostomo cocked his head, flicking his ears forward encouragingly. “What if...what if she does not  _ wish  _ to be claimed by me?”

Nostomo huffed. “I...then…” He folded his good arm. “Well then…” His ears flicked uncomfortably. “You...you prove your worth and pursue her!” Nostomo shifted uneasily, hooves scraping the soft earth. “I don’t know where this hesitation comes from, Tagaan.  _ Any _ woman would choose to be with you.”

The wind blew gently. Their words fell. Tagaan pawed his hoof. “I...and if she would not?” Nostomo blinked, ears pulling back. “She is of another clan, father.” His muscular arms folded over himself. “Maybe she doesn’t want me. Maybe she has a male already, or simply wished to be left alone.” He flicked his ears back.

Nostomo dipped his head. “I understand you, Tagaan.” He rested his palm on Tagaan’s shoulder. “But...for either circumstance…” Gentle pressure soothed his shoulder. “The only way to know is to pursue her. You should go.” He clapped his hand. “Go to her, and woo her over. She won’t be able to resist you.”

Tagaan shifted in the earth.  _ ‘Perhaps...we even spoke of mating those few weeks past...she…’  _ His shoulders tensed and relaxed. ‘ _ She would surely not reconsider. And father is right, I am powerful and prestigious.’  _ He tightened his fists, expelling anger and uncertainty. “You’re...you’re right father. I must go and claim her before another does!” 

Nostomo pressed his ears forth, shaking Tagaan gently. “That is the attitude, my boy.” His eyes wandered off, gazing into the distance. “I will enjoy having grandchildren, I think.”

Embarrassment flushed Tagaan. “I...that...it’s too early to speak of such things!” 

Nostomo laughed and released his shoulder. “Oh, nonsense.” The mighty ram turned and walked on. “I wager you’ll have a lamb of your own two summers hence.”

Tagaan spurred his hooves and matched his fathers pace. “I will not, if you keep prodding so!” Nostomo raised his hand, ears wiggling happily. Stoic reality dampened his voice. “I...I do love her father...and don’t wish to push such a thing on her. Bearing and raising a child...it is a tremendous task.”

Nostomo huffed. “True, my son, but that is a woman’s purpose.” Tagaan’s stomach twitched.  _ ‘Purpose? Is that not something for the woman to decide?’  _ His mighty shoulders rolling, Nostomo continued on. “It brings them joy, and satisfaction.”

Tagaan flicked his ears and spoke out. “Purpose, father?” His left hand rubbed his neck. “Isn’t...isn't a person's purpose up to them?”

Nostomo stilled again. His jaw worked quietly. “I...well no.” He stretched his neck back and forth. “I mean...yes, but a woman should bear her husband's children.” Small, disquieted flicks stirred his ears. “Just as a man should protect and provide for his wife. This is...this is the way of things.”

Birdsong supplanted their conversation. Several moments passed. Tagaan breathed deep, and exhaled. “But...is it…” His eyes flicked away. “Is it the way things  _ should _ be?”

Seriousness swept over Nostomo’s visage. “Perhaps, my son.” His voice quieted. Nostomo turned his gaze earthbound. “Perhaps…” Nostomo stood, breathing calmly. “...You are sounding more and more like your mother.” Faint humor warmed his voice.

The anxiety roiling in his gut dispersed. “Well, father, is that such a bad thing?” Tagaan wiggled his ears. “You have always said mother was smarter than you by far.”

Melancholy drug Nostomo’s ears. “I have...but Tagaan…” His eyes met his son’s. “Your mother is also hated deeply. Many object to her ideas.” Nostomo filled his lungs and exhaled softly. “I found her strength and determination appealing beyond compare, but that same strength made her many enemies.” Gentle wind ruffled his mane. “Saying such things in a council meeting...or even in confidence, could ruin your reputation.” He craned his mighty neck, popping his stiff vertebrae. “You would need claim it back with blood and fire...something I had to do more often than I ever wished to.” His tired eyes met Tagaan’s. “The council knows you are strong and wise. They have respect for you, Tagaan, even if only small. I truly think you should keep such...radical...ideas to yourself. And your family.”

Tagaan lowered his arms and looked to the earth. “That...Yes, father. I will hold those ideas to my self.” Burning anger licked his guts. ‘ _ It is not right...I should speak my mind. The truth should be heard.’  _

Nostomo flicked his ears forth. “Good. Do not abandon your mother’s teachings…” His ears drooped with faint joy. “...She taught me many things as well. But do hold them close, and share them jealously.”

Tagaan fell silent.  _ ‘Hold those ideas close…don’t share them…’  _ An uncomfortable shudder rolled through him. ‘ _ That is not right. Ideas are to be shared.’  _ Nostomo nudged his shoulder, eyes concerned and questioning. Tagaan flicked his ears forth and shook himself. “Yes. I hear you, father.” The unease holding Nostomo faded. “Now...you said something about ‘first’? What else did you wish to speak of?”

Nostomo straightened his spine. “Ah, yes. A more...serious matter.” The great chieftain looked to the sky. “You know of the summit this summer?”

Tagaan leaned back, resting on one leg. “Yes, of course. What about it?” Curious anxiety tickled him. ‘ _ I’ve never been...is he…’ _

Nostomo glanced back. “You will attend this year.” 

Tagaan’s heart fluttered. “I...I am ready!?” Nostomo flicked his ears forth. “I...yes!” Tagaan slammed his fists together. “Finally! Oh, tell me father, what role do I serve!?” His hooves scraped the ground, flinging dust and pebbles.  _ ‘Hunter? Or champion? The anticipation!’  _ Tagaan’s ears fluttered.

Nostomo raised his hand. Humor lifted his aging features. “Steady, son of mine.” Tagaan stilled himself, consciously returning to rest. “You will be our clan’s champion this year. Toorian shall be our hunter, and you our warrior.”

Tagaan bellowed loud and full. “Yes!” His fists pumped wildly. “A chance! To prove our clan’s worth!” Tagaan held his hands before him, gazing over their strong lines. “To prove mine…”

A short thwack startled him. “Calm yourself.” Nostomo’s voice lowered. “It is a chance, yes, but it is also a duty.” Nostomo brought his arm back, walking forth again. “You will face the other clan champions. You will  _ be _ the strength of the sun clan.” His eyes cast back, piercing his. “You understand? What that really means?” Tagaan pressed his ears down. “Weakness there will show weakness here.” Cold gravity gleamed. “If you are weak...if you do not impress…” Nostomo turned and rolled his shoulders. “...The others may grow confident. Aggressive.” 

Tagaan stirred himself, matching his father's stride. The younger ram fell silent. The ground turned up, traveling deeper into the woods. Steady hoofbeats stretched between them.  _ ‘I...if I fail?...’  _ Tagaan clutched his shoulder. ‘ _ He’s right...if I do not impress…’  _ A shudder wracked him. “Father…” Nostomo slowed and tilted his head. “Why...why does Faanri not go?” Tagaan folded his arms, glancing away. “I mean...if it so important, shouldn’t the warmaster be our champion?” His voice quieted. “...As he...has always done?” 

A soft chuckle rumbled Nostomo’s chest. “Tagaan...Faanri is older than I.” His good arm waved. “And more scarred by far.” Birdsong grew ever louder. The wind brushed through the verdant land. “Faanri is not stronger than you. He is not faster than you.” His ears flicked. “Faanri is far more skilled, but you are young.” Nostomo pressed his ears back. “In truth...it was Faanri who recommended you. I still think you too young.” Crushing sorrow slammed his heart. “The other champions...they truly are fierce, my son.” Tagaan slowed, eyes falling. ‘ _ Not...not ready? Father thinks…’ _ His ears pulled back. ‘ _ Too young?...’ _ Nostomo continued. “I would like you to seek his tutelage. You must prepare well.”

Tagaan twitched his ears. ‘ _ I...he’s right...but…’  _ His hooves stopped. “Father...you still...you still believe me capable?” 

Nostomo pressed his ears forth. “Yes. You are strong.” His good hand gripped Tagaan’s bicep. “Fast. Hearty.” He lifted his hand, touching Tagaan’s forehead. “Smart. You are capable, my son. But you should still train.”

Warmth followed his fathers touch.  _ ‘Ah. Yes. Not incapable...just…’ _ Tagaan straightened himself. “Yes. Of course, father.” Nostomo lolled his ears forward. ‘ _ Not incapable…’ _

Nostomo huffed gratefully. “Yes. Now!” His voice rose. “All this talk has made me hungry!” Humor tinged his voice, easing the tense air. “Let us find something to hunt!” Tagaan laughed and pressed his ears forth.


	32. Chapter 32

Robert blinked his eyes. Stinging light assailed his vision. His arm twitched up. Shooting pains coursed throughout the heavy limb. A stiff groan depleted his tight lungs.  _ ‘Why’s this…’  _ Robert dropped the unresponsive arm. Dazzling speckles blurred his eyes. ‘ _...feel so...familiar?...’  _ The crusader flexed his back, straining upwards. Tight bindings jerked him back. Robert blinked swiftly. ‘ _ What’s...what’s got me!?’  _ His chin tucked painfully down.

Heavy blankets swaddled him deep in a simple bed. Several buckets lay nearby, along with a sturdy nightstand. A small tin tray, leaden with dry foods, rested upon the wood nearby.  _ ‘Ah. In bed.’  _ Robert rested his beleaguered body back. ‘ _ Good...good…’  _ Fatigue clawed him. Tired pains splintered through this form. Numb prickles shot underneath his skin. His extremities twitched and ached. A wretched groan rumbled his frame.  _ ‘...wait a tick…’  _ Robert closed his eyes. ‘ _...why’s I in bed?’ _

Robert shoved himself up. A cutting twinge pulled his right arm. His breath hitched over his chest. Weakened muscles strained heroically. The heavy bedding restraining him shifted and untucked. Gasping pants broke through his throat. Robert clutched his chest, forcing slow and steady breaths.  _ ‘’m hurt, that's fur sure.’  _ His head dipped. ‘ _...why…’ _ Hazy memories flit before him.  _ Pouring rain. Desperation. Undead.  _ Robert pushed himself up. The sharp pain within his arm spiked. His teeth gnashed together.  _ Running. Fighting. _ Roberts' blood chilled. ‘ _ I lost. That... _ thing _ …clobbered me.’  _ He gripped his right shoulder, steadying the limb. ‘ _ How’d I get back? More important, did those folks make it alright?’ _ His feet swung out, hanging over the simple wood.  _ ‘Gotta find out. Gotta find out…’ _

Robert stood. Splitting pains radiated throughout his legs. His muscles spasmed. His skin stung. Robert hit the floor in a heap. A snarl parted his lips. His arms braced themselves and shoved. Agony collapsed his right arm. Robert fell. Another heavy thump rattled his senses. His vision swirled.  _ ‘Damnation...can’t a man least  _ stand!? _ ’ _ Robert sucked in a heavy breath and pulled his knees up. Slipping a groan, he swung his body back. His balance shifted and swayed, settling over his knees after several seconds.

The door of his room burst open. Robert shoved himself back. Adrenaline steadied his hurting legs and feet. His eyes locked over the door frame. A young woman hurled herself in. Clad in red shirt, simple corset, gray trousers, and a smile, she swiftly looked over the room. Her eyes looked over Robert and lit up. She spoke, her soft voice kind and excited. “I’m so glad you’re awake!” Her brown eyes twinkled beneath her short matching hair. “I heard all about what you did last night. It’s all everyone’s talking about!” She strode over, extending her hand and a wide grin. “I’m Leah. Good to meet you!”

Robert offered a small smile.  _ ‘Excitable, ain’t ya?’  _ He clasped her hand and shook it. “Name’s Rob...” Irritation flashed through him. ‘ _ Drat. Not Robert no more.’  _ He shook his head and smiled wider, ignoring his shooting pains. ‘ _ Almost twice in as many days? Must be tired…’ _ He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Pardon. Name’s Kasalis.”

Leah bounced back on her heels. “Yeah, I heard.” Mirth danced in her eyes. “Daltyn wouldn’t stop cursing  _ or _ thanking Akarat for you.” She retracted her arm. Her eyes darted down, and she brushed a stray lock of hair from her face. “I mean...really…” She clasped her hands behind herself. “Coming in the middle of the night? Saving all those people?” Her voice quieted, barely whispering beyond her lips. “I almost believe what they’re saying about you...that you’re an angel sent to save us.”

Robert glanced down, rubbing his neck bashfully. “Well...see…” His grin returned. “I’s just doin’ my duty, ma’am.” He looked deeply in her eyes. ‘ _ Light above, she’s a cute one.’  _ A burning warmth roused in his core.  _ ‘Talks smart too. _ ’ Chatter from the inn reached them, indistinct and cheery. “Light protects us.”

A breathy chuckle escaped her. “Oh...I think  _ you  _ protected us last night.” She tucked her head and glanced through her lashes. “I had friends that you rescued. I’m very grateful.” Her balance shifted back and she grinned fully. “Really.”

Desire stirred in Robert’s core.  _ ‘What a comely woman…’  _ A sharp thought stopped him. ‘ _...no. Mother said no...’  _ Bitterness washed his mind. Robert cleared his throat and waved his hand dismissively. “Ah nah, all jus’ part of the job.” His voice grated rough and unkind. “Yer nothin’ special.”

Leah flinched back. Hurt and embarrassment flashed over her features. A fragile smile sprung into place. Robert's heart splintered.  _ ‘’M so sorry…’  _ Leah snapped her arms before her and folded them. “Oh...right, right.” She cleared her throat and looked away. “So...anything you need?...” Her hands fidgeted. “...I work here, as a barmaid.”

Robert shook his head and hurled himself back on the bed. “No…” A sharp hiss broke through his teeth. “Jus’...jus’ some boiled water, if ya have it.” His left arm steadied his spasming right. “And please, tell me...did that last group make it?”

Light sparked in her eyes. “The Anders? Yes! They all got to town safely.” Her feet dug at the ground awkwardly. “...anyway, I’ll go get you that water.”

Robert sighed and shifted on the bed. “Thank you kindly. Although…” Curiosity lifted him. “...Who drug me back to town? Who I owe  _ my  _ life?” He scratched his jaw. “Daltyn?”

Leah turned and paused in the door. “Oh, no. Another traveler, Dragnarik, saved you.” Robert frowned. ‘ _ That don’t sound like a normal name…’ _ She glanced back. “You want me to ask if he’d like to talk?” 

Robert nodded, dragging his legs even on the bed. “I would…argh!” A sharp pain assailed his core. “...would greatly appreciate that.” Leah nodded and hastened away. An angry scowl split his features. ‘ _ Damned crusade...makin’ me be rude ta pretty ladies!’  _ Fuming thoughts and harsh expletives flooded his mind. Robert shifted himself, finding a measure of comfort. His tense muscles slowly relaxed. He drew a deep breath and buzzed a sigh from his lips. ‘ _ Nothin for it...told mother I wouldn’t, so I won’t.’  _ Resentment bubbled in his heart. ‘ _ Even if I really want ta…’  _ Heavy footsteps thud outside his door, accompanied by several sharp raps against the frame. Robert pulled himself higher and called out. “Come on in.”

A colossal man stepped beneath the door. Robert blinked, glancing over him. His powerful frame stood nearly seven feet tall, shoulders wide and muscles rippling. Sturdy simple trousers rested over his legs, and heavy boots covered his feet. An intricate pattern of swirling blue paints covered his naked torso. Scars decorated the man over his visible sun-tanned flesh. An old weathered face sat beneath a mane of silvered hair tied back in a simple knot. Piercing gray eyes met Roberts. A calm and quiet voice spoke out, deep and coarse. “You lived. Good.” The man folded his arms and leaned back. “Leah told me you wish to speak.” He gestured gently. “Speak.”

Robert shook his head and grinned. “I… I understand you saved me last night?” Dragnarik nodded. Several moments passed. Robert coughed quietly and looked away. “...Er...well...thank you.”

“You are welcome.” The man stood still, breathing slowly. 

Robert rubbed his neck.  _ ‘Sure is talkative, ain’t he?’  _ Tingling pains sent a shudder through him. “Well...do you mind me asking what happened? I think I got clobbered something fierce.”

The man nodded, expression still grim and unmoving. “No. I do not.” He glanced aside, eyes traveling off. “I arrived at the town, seeking the falling star. As I approached, the group you rescued arrived as well.” His eyes returned. “They told me that you were still out there. I would not allow another valiant heart to fall. I ran back along the path they indicated, and came across several cultists and a demon dragging you away. I killed them, and carried you back to town.” A small grin lightened his worn features. “You are a heavy man, Kasalis.” His face returned to stoicism. “And yes, you were gravely injured. You had a concussion, and your flesh was falling off.” He glanced out the open doorway. “The priest of this town prayed for you, but declared you would die. But…” He met Robert's gaze. “That is something the soft folk forget. We warriors do not die so easily.”

Robert fell silent, nodding along.  _ ‘I got lucky then...or the Light shined favorably upon me.’  _ He smiled and nodded. “Well...I would thank the Light, but I dare think I should be thankin’ you.”

Dragnarik smirked. “Perhaps you are not entirely wrong. A vision compelled my journey.” He rested back. Light chastisement lightened his tone. “And I said, you are welcome.” 

A quiet fell over the small room. Robert narrowed his eyes. “A vision? What vision?” 

Dragnarik met his gaze. “A simple, but upsetting one. Colors, and a sense of destruction. I awoke with the urge to journey.”

Robert nodded, biting his lower lip. “That...that’s the same dream me and…” He stopped himself and sighed. “...I, s’cuse me, that’s the same one I’ve gotten for a while now.”

The larger man stroked his chin. “Interesting...but better left to scholars. I do not think it’s meaning important.”

Confusion crossed Robert’s face. “I...what do ya mean? I...surely it’s important.”

“Perhaps.” Dragnarik shrugged. “But not to me. It is a dream, and an urge. Either I follow it, or I do not. It’s meaning is unimportant.”

Robert glanced aside, running the thought through his head. “Well...that’s...yeah…” His free left hand scratched his coarse hair. “That makes sense, I s’pose… but don’t you wanna know what it means?”

“Yes.” A small laugh eased his imposing form. “That is why I said ‘better left to the scholars.’” Humor glint in his stormy eyes. “I did not say it should remain a mystery.”

Robert grinned ruefully. “Well now, that’s jus’ cheatin’!” He attempted to fold his arms. Shattering pain stilled the movement. A snarl flashed over him. “...ow...Anywho…” He looked to the platter of foodstuffs and grabbed a chunk of meat. “...So everyone’s back? Safe and sound?”

“Yes.” Dragnarik shifted his weight. “Though...safety is not assured. The risen dead besiege this town.” Robert coughed and struck his chest. “They have not relented. Their numbers  _ grow.  _ Tristram has need of our aid.”

Robert snarled and moved to stand. Dragnarik surged forward. A heavy palm shoved him back down. “Oi! What’s that…”

Dragnarik shook his head and folded his arms again. “You need to recover. You may join the fight tomorrow. The militia holds the fiends in a deadlock, and the demon hunter has warded away cultists.”

Robert frowned and wiggled resentfully. “I’m plenty good to fight. And who’re you ta tell me not to!?” Dragnarik narrowed his eyes. “These people need help, and you think I should lie down?”

“Yes.” The massive man lowered his voice. “The town is besieged. You have time to recover. And I am your elder, of war and of age.” His palms clenched and relaxed. “You should heed my wisdom.”

Robert looked away, indignation burning bright. “Well...fine.” He slowly folded his arms. The pain in his right arm seared him. “I’ll do that then. But I’ve...I think I’ve gotta crystal in my arm?” He shrugged and grimaced. “Happened before, and was a crystal last time.”

Dragnarik furrowed his heavy brows. “You Taiifed yourself?” A low growl shook his chest. “That will need to be removed.” Judgment burned in his eyes and voice. “You should be more controlled in using your power. Recklessness serves us poorly.”

Robert snarled and flicked his hand. “Aw, bugger off will ya!?” Fuming indignation roiled within. “Swear, your worse’n my mum.”

Dragnarik shook his head and turned. “Fine. I will leave.” He walked out the doorway. “I will send the priest to remove your stone.” His heavy steps fell away. Robert groaned and leaned back. ‘ _ Great...jus’ great…’ _ He scowled and shifted uneasily. ‘ _ Gotta...blasted more surgery… more bed rest…’  _ Pain rippled throughout his body. ‘ _ Aw hell...this is gonna bite…’ _


	33. Chapter 33

Robert staggered down the simple stairs. ‘ _ Ow. Ow.’  _ Throbbing pains flushed his body. A fresh and angry scar pulsed painfully over his right tricep.  _ ‘Bleedin’ ow.’  _ One hand braced against the handrail, he worked steadily down. ‘ _ Rotten Malachi. Rotten, no good blighter.’  _ His foot carefully accepted his weight, familiar splitting pain radiating within. ‘ _ End of days, my arse.’  _ Another tentative step lowered him. ‘ _ Could’a least used some pain killer…somethin…’  _ Indignant fuming filled his mind. ‘ _ Stead’a stick and a prayer...rotten blighter…’  _

The sounds of the quiet morning chatter reached over the small tavern. Robert grinned. ‘ _ Been to long since I heard other peoples.’ _ He stumbled another step. A scowl flashed over his grin. ‘ _ Ow. Feels right. Mother always loved inns…’ _ Fond memories soothed his frustration.  _ Raucous laughter and the scent of rich foods.  _ Robert took a step, ignoring the spike of pain.  _ Mother holding him across her lap as she spoke to other travelers. Stories and jests exchanged. _ His boot paused over the final step, eyes losing focus.  _ Mother making friends swiftly, speaking of her adventures and the sights she has seen. The fun talks gradually shifted to grave sounding adult matters. Kasalis shooed him and told him to go do something. He hopped from her lap and scurried around, finding other children. Small games warred back and forth across the tavern. Robert hollered, and leapt into the fray. _

“Kasalis! Are you alright, man!?” A haggard man called from the inn floor. Robert’s boot hit the staircase. Robert blinked and shook his head. ‘ _ Right. No time ta be gettin’ lost in memries…’ _ A small throng of people populated the tables and chairs of the inn. A portly and upset man tended the bar, rubbing down a mug irritably. The scent of simple grains and cheap beer reached him. 

Robert met the man’s eyes and waved halfheartedly. “Ah, yeah. I’m fine.” He stepped down, hitting the inn floor. “Jus’...jus’ thinkin’.” His boots marched slowly on. “Say...I don't think I’ve met ya. How ya know my name?” Robert scratched his neck, glancing aside. “And...uh...what’s yours, my goodman?”

The man sipped his mug and grinned. “Well, just about everyone here in town knows your name.” He looked away, glancing at the door. “Kind of a hero now, honestly. And my name’s Rumford. Daniel Rumford.” A small scroll lay before him aside his bowl and mug. His right hand idly tapped the paper. “People can hardly  _ stop _ talking about you.” His thin lips fell to a smirk. “So, you can probably expect a lot more of people knowing you before you know them.”

Robert hobbled over to him and collapsed in one of the open chairs. “Well...blast it all then, eh?” His eyes studied the man’s face. Weathered lines crossed his visage. A long nose and slim cheeks gave him the vague facsimile of a hawk. “So, Daniel, what you working on there?” He pointed to the small scroll. Anxiety licked his core.  _ ‘He talks plenty fancy...hope he’s jus’ holdin’ it fur someone…’ _

Daniel blinked and glanced down. “Ah, that.” He cleared his throat and peered over the paper. “Compiling the resources we have here in town.” Dread chilled Roberts core. ‘ _ Ah Damnation. ‘Nother  _ smart _ man.’ _ Envy burned his conscience. ‘ _ Blasted lucky folks, actin’ my better jus’ fur their learnin’...’ _ Daniel tapped his lips and glanced down. “Have to make what we have last long enough to see through this event.”

“Ah, well I’m sure you’ve got this.” Robert replied absentmindedly. “So...you can read huh?” A fake smile repressed his worry. “Leastwise ya can’t write like them fancy folks, right?”

Daniel blinked and frowned. “Well...uh...no.” He shook his head and lifted his mug. “I mean…” A sip of the fluid steadied him. “Yes, I can write.” A groan built behind Robert's throat. “I’ve been studying under Brother Malachi for some five years now.” Daniel grinned humbly. “I’ll likely be taking over his role as priest when he passes.”

Immense relief slammed Robert. ‘ _ Oh, thank Akarat!’  _ He leaned back and exhaled his tension. ‘ _ He’s a man a Zakarum! Not some fancy richy snob!’  _ Robert smiled and met his eyes again. “Ah, good then. World’s always needin’ more men a faith.” The chatter of the inn soothed his nerves. “Worried a second. Thought you was some prissy richmen!”

Daniel barked a laugh. “Oh, light above, no!” His finger tapped a weathered cheek. “You think a noble would have skin like this?” He shook his head and chuckled. “Akarat’s teeth, no. I’m a farmer. Just learning about priestly duties ever since my boys got old enough to run the farm.” Fondness twinkled in his eyes. “They don’t even need their old man anymore. So, I decided that I might as well use all my new found time for something worthwhile.”

Robert nodded and smiled. “Ah, aye. I can understand that.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his aching limbs. A content sigh breezed past his lips. “Hate bein’ idle morein anythin’.” He paused and pursed his lips. “Aside demons, a’course. An’ murderers.” Robert frowned and glanced down. “An’ fiends. An’ crimnals. An’...come to think a’ it, idlein’s not the worse…”

An uneasy pause stretched over them. Daniel coughed and glanced away. “Um...right. Anyway…” His fingers tapped a staccato. “Well...if you hate it so much…” He ran a hand through his loose brown hair. “Daltyn’s in charge of the militia, as I’m sure you're aware. You could always go speak to him.”

Robert blinked and nodded. “Oh, right. S’pose I could at that.” His hand gripped the table and he pulled himself up. “Well, er...thankee for the talk.” Splitting pains shot over his body. Robert stilled his visage and waved. “I’ll be doin’ that. You keep…” He licked his lips and gestured vaguely. “...Compilin’.”

Daniel smirked and nodded. “Yes, I will. And you have fun finding something to do.”

“Right.” Robert turned and marched out. “Take care’a yourself!” A similar phrase followed him into the town. Robert opened the door and stepped into the early morning fog of Tristram. A deep rut swung before the inn, winding from the heavy gate deeper into the small town. Numerous tents and makeshift shelters held individuals beneath the morning fog. Homely wooden buildings sprung from the earth, surprisingly dense and well made.

Robert shivered and tucked his arms together. He swung his heel out and closed the door behind him. His breath misted. Uneasy quiet filled his senses. ‘ _ Somethin’s jus’ not right here…’  _ Two people stood atop the heavy wall, watching outside. Robert walked forth and called out. “Ho there! Where’s Daltyn?”

The figures flinched and glanced back. Quiet mutters passed between the two. The older man pointed deeper into town. “‘E’s off thataway. Otha gate.” The man paused. “Why’s you need tha cappan?”

A small breeze stirred the chill air. “Oh, I was gonna ask ‘bout pitchin’ in.” Robert turned and waved. “An’ thankee. I’ll be off then.” A halfhearted response fell beneath the morning air.  _ ‘Sure is quiet today...can’t blame em for bein’ untrustin’, though…’  _ Robert continued down the well traveled main road, curving along a hillslope. Numerous houses popped around him, hemmed in by sturdy wood of tree and wall.  _ ‘No fancy stones...no fancy walls...no fancy anythin’.’  _ Robert grinned and walked on. ‘ _ Why, I think I’m startin’a like it here.’  _

The road forked, splitting to a small town square and a gatehouse similar to the front. Robert approached and called to the two figures atop the wall. “Ho! Daltyn! Was up and thought I’d come by an’ help.”

The taller figure flinched and turned back. Daltyn blinked and rubbed his eyes. The other figure chuckled and continued watching. “Kasalis?” He shook his head and peered through the mist. “Kasalis! Wha’in blazes ya doin’ up!?” A hand pulled off his helmet and rubbed his sandy hair. “Naugh’ buh yesserday ya was all buh dead!” Daltyn sighed and hung his head. “Wha’ in blazes is with you?”

A small grin tugged Roberts' lips. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not more injured.” He approached the wall. “Could always crack muh skull a few times. Break a few bones.”

Daltyn laughed hoarsely. “Well, lease tha’ woul’ make me feel bit better bout sleepin’ in las’ night.” Daltyn rested his arms on the wall. “Akara’s teeth, yer makin’ us all look bad!” The man shook his head and scrutinized Robert. “...Ya really is made a’ stern stuff, isn’t ya?”

Robert ascended the small stairway, pridefully stifling his pain. “Ah, well...I s’pose.” He crested the wall and paused. “Mum jus’ raised me right, I think.” Robert glanced over, regarding the other watcher. “Who’s she?” Her glanced over her form.

The woman turned and smirked. Her hands easily gripped a longbow, and her movements overflowed with grace. Grey leather trousers and a sturdy vest covered her athletic frame. A pair of small heels beneath her heavy boots held her higher, and a dark corset highlighted her feminine assets. Archer gloves covered her well calloused fingers. Robert's heart seized. Pale yellow eyes, glowing and eerie, bored into him from beneath a large hood. Wisps of raven black hair trailed over her soft pale features.  _ ‘Those eyes...what are those eyes!?’  _ She dramatically bowed, elegantly crossing her heels. “‘She’, is called Alice.” The woman rose and grinned. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Robert shook himself and hissed. “Er...Kasalis, ma’am.” Fear licked his mind. Seething yellow pierced his soul. ‘ _ Akarat preserve me….what are those eyes?’  _ He glanced away and rubbed his neck. “So what your eyes up…” Robert grimaced and shook his head. “Er...what are…” He cleared his throat. “What are you up to here?”

Alice smiled and crossed her arms. “Do not worry. I take no offense.” A breathy chuckle rumbled her chest. “My eyes are rather intimidating, aren’t they?” Pensive thought swept over her. “I rarely make a good impression now.” She sighed. “No matter what I say, no matter how I dress, my eyes…” Brief weariness deflated her. “...They always look at my eyes, and flinch away.”

Guilty remorse chewed Robert’s gut. “Oh...I…” He shuffled and rolled his shoulders. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Your eyes are…” A grin lifted his rough face. “Yeah, they’re a bit scary.” Robert laughed and shook his head. “But...mum told me to judge on character and merit. Let me great ya proper.” He offered his hand. “I’m Kasalis.”

Alice grinned and clasped his hand. “She sounds a lovely woman, Kasalis.” She released his hand and stretched her lithe frame. “...and thank you, for not lying.” Her arms dropped. A smirk twitched over her face. “Many would just say ‘Oh no, m’lady! Your eyes are lovely!’ And expect me to giggle and flutter my lashes.” She entwined her hands at her waist and tilted her head. A pout and sarcastic fluttering lashes punctuated her statement.

Robert laughed fully and leaned against the wall. “Oh no, ma’am. Those are right terrifying!” His lips pulled into a lopsided grin. “Stopped my heart cold, ya did.” He glanced away and scratched his chin. “But...uh...if you don’t mind…” An awkward cough cleared his throat. “Could ya...could ya tell me what made em so…” He gestured vaguely. “...glowy?”

She imitated his pose and chuckled. “Oh, I suppose I could.” Her sharp gaze turned back to the mist beyond town. “Well, Daltyn? Would you like to hear as well?”

Daltyn walked past both and plopped himself on a chair. “Woman, you knows ah’m dyin’a cure-osit-e.” His mouth fumbled over the final word. Daltyn hung his head and shook it. “Make a man feel right dumb, you do. Talkin’ like tha’.”

Alice shook her head softly. “Well, if it is making you uncomfortable, I could always attempt an accent.” She cleared her throat and straightened her spine. “So ya’s sees, ‘ows oi gots…”

Robert waved his hand desperately and spoke. “Stop! Stop it, please!” He fell back and smiled. “Leave least a lil’ digniy for us. We ain’t tha’ bad!” 

A long drawn out sigh depleted Alice's lungs. “Oh, very well.” She grinned and nestled her body back against a wooden pillar. “Anyway, I got these eyes from a ritual. I’m a demon hunter, a member of a close knit little…” A wry smile creased her features. “‘Family’, let’s call it.” She sighed wistfully. “Anyway my family, as it where, long to live up to our titles. Because of this, we do many things that would be considered ‘brave’... “ Her fingers clawed the air sarcastically. “...‘immoral’, or ‘stupid’.” Alice chuckled softly. “Many, many things. We favor bows, bolts, and arrows over blades. Because of this, we need sharp eyesight.” Her piercing orbs lanced Robert. “So. We obtain it. We steal from demons their sight, and use it against them.” Robert opened his mouth and worked his jaw silently. “How?” Robert heaved a sigh and nodded. Alice smirked. “Like I said, a ritual. Three of my family gathered around and chanted. I blinded myself with a potent acid. Dread magics were intoned, and I ate the still beating heart of a demon.” A vicious grin split her maw. “Lovely little gathering, hmm?”

Robert stilled his heart and nodded.  _ ‘Akarat preserve me...so that’s why…’  _ Pressure built under her unflinching gaze. He flinched and looked away. “Aye...that’s...somethin’...” Alice chortled and turned to the fog. “I...I’m sorry ya had ta go through that. Couldn’t’a bin easy…”

“Nothing worthwhile is.” Her simple reply came.

A hoarse laugh cleared his throat. “Ah, well, in tha’ case...aye.” A quiet fell over the trio. Daltyn muttered under his breath. Robert caught the words ‘Akarat’, ‘crazy’, and ‘whu’d I’. Several long moments stretched between them. Robert breathed deeply and resumed watching the field. An occasional bird trill soothed his nerves. “So...Daltyn…” The man grunted. “Got any work for me? I can’t stand bein’ idle.” Robert furrowed his brows. “And uh...where’s that north man? Wha’ was ‘is name…” He snapped his fingers. “Dragnarik! Tha’s it. Where’s Dragnarik?”

Daltyn crossed his arms. His worn face softened. “Ah’m glad ta hear ya don’ like sittin’ bout.” Flinty judgement hardened his eyes. “Too many youn’ folks these days, whingin’ an’ whinin’ o’er chores…” He shook his head and sighed. “Anywho, northman’s ou’ sweepin’ fur some our missin’ boys. Naw e’reyones back in town.” He squinted and looked Robert over. “Hmm...ya think yu’d be up fur some hikin’? I could schedull ya in fur a run.”

Robert flashed a toothy grin. “Oh I’d be more than capable! And more than happy to help!” He rolled his aching shoulders and popped his neck. “Jus’ tell me where ya wants me.”


	34. Chapter 34

Robert snarled and trudged along the damp path. Searing aches sapped his strength, and the relentless pace of the other two weakened his resolve. Shattering pain spiraled from his feet. His tightly clenched palms fell numb long ago.  _ ‘I...blast, I…’  _ He heaved a heavy breath and steeled himself. ‘ _ I  _ can _ do this. I  _ can.’ Robert rolled his shoulder and spoke up. “Oi! How much longer’s this rute?” His armor clanked heavily over his hurting frame, pressing every footfall deeper into the soil.  _ ‘Akarat’s burning teeth! I  _ can _ do this…’ _

Charles called over his shoulder, youthful exuberance shining bright. “Oh! We just have two more 'ours.” His nimble feet danced through the underbrush. “I know it ain’t that long, but we gotta get our rest, y’know?” 

Despair chilled Robert's heart. ‘ _ Two...two hours?...’  _ A whimper tightened his throat. ‘ _ I...I...I can do this...I can do this…’  _

The trio marched on, shrouded under the heavy fog. Their pace gradually slowed, drug down by the armored crusader. Birdsong and the hum of insects dampened the sound of their movement. Shadowy menace peered around every towering pine and oak. No undead revealed themselves in the tranquil morning.

Robert staggered on. ‘ _ Left foot…’ _ His heavy heel touched the earth. He heaved a deep breath. ‘ _ Right foot…’  _ Metal met earth, and he moved forward. ‘ _ Left foot…’  _ Agony pulsed throughout his limbs. Numb pain overwhelmed his senses. ‘ _ Left foot…’  _ Robert stumbled and slammed his heel to catch himself. His muscles screamed. ‘ _...right...right foot…’ _ He trudged on.

The small footpath opened, revealing one of the many abandoned farmsteads. An uneasy haze rested over the stout timber. Cawing crows pecked the dirt and rubble, seeking morsels of forgotten food. Robert grimaced. ‘ _ What a sight...reminds me’a  _ that _ day…’  _ Melancholic fatigue washed over him. ‘ _ No famly should be burned outta home...no child should have’ta run from their bed…’  _ A hand clasped his shoulder.

Robert surged, twining his own aching limb about the invader. His right heel dug deep. His right hand seized their collar. Robert turned and pulled the intruder before him. Riley lifted her hand, desperately shouting. Robert blinked and eased his arm.  _ ‘I...she...what is wrong with me?’  _ He snapped his arm away, releasing her and stepping back. ‘ _ How did I get so...why…’ _ Riley took a cautious step back. “I said…’are you okay?’” Fearful tremors shook her pleasant voice.

Charles stood nearby, eyes wide and frightened. Robert gripped his chest. Hammering beats shook his heart. Blood rushed through his cooling body. ‘ _ I got distracted...I...I panicked…’ _ Robert looked away. Shame burned his face. “Uh...yeah. Sorry ‘bout that…” He cleared his throat and folded his arms. “...I...uh...was swimmin’ in memries...Startled me…”

Riley lowered her arms and stepped forward. “A’right, okay.” Her voice shifted, tone becoming kind and understanding. “You a’right? No’ startled no more?” She approached and gently laid a hand on his arm. “It’s a’right. Ya don’ hav’ ta be tough. Everyone’s got their demons. It’s a’right.”

Her gentle crooning words soothed Robert’s frayed mind. He reached his hand up and squeezed hers. “I’m...yeah. I’m fine.” Her hand slid away. “Thankee.”

An understanding smile crossed her lips. “‘Appy ta help, dearie.” She stretched her back and scanned the woodline. “So...you ‘ave bad memries’a farms?”

Robert breathed deeply. “I...yeah. Bad memries.” His eyes locked over a crow. It’s beak viscously pecked a fallen body.  _ ‘I hope that’s an undead…’ _ He gripped his left shoulder and rolled it. “Let’s...not linger…” A small echo of assent sounded from his companions. Robert nodded and turned, happily accepting the throbbing pains of travel. 

The morning continued on. Robert slowed further behind his companions. Searing aches fumbled his movements. Agony dulled his senses. Every step shook his body.  _ ‘Jus’...jus’ ‘nother hour...jus’...’nother...hour…’ _

Charles yelled. Robert snapped his head up. A zombie burst from the bushes, slamming into Riley. Charles fumbled with his shortsword, panicking. Riley fell, overwhelmed under the undead’s frenzied might. Adrenaline surged in Roberts fatigued body. His hand deftly unholstered his mace as his legs surged forth.

Charles flailed, cutting the zombies back ineffectually. It grunted and pressed down. Dead teeth clamped over Riley’s shoulder. Oozing crimson spurt. Riley screamed. Furious anger spurred Robert forth. He ran to the grappling figures and lashed his boot out. His sturdy boot caught the zombies head and snapped it around. A chunk of Riley’s flesh loosed with its jaw. A dreadful crack split the air and the fiend fell silent.

Tears and curses flowed freely from Riley. She clamped firmly around her shoulder and grit her teeth. Charles snapped himself into motion and withdrew a roll of gauze. Robert sagged, adrenaline already fading. Exhaustion tickled the edges of his body. Robert sighed and glanced over the wood lines. A figure gesticulating fearsomely caught his eyes. Roiling darkness surged from its fingertips.

Robert cried out and swung his shield before him. The devilish orb slammed his weight off balance. Charles swore and fell back, immediately dropping his gauze and scrambling away. Three more shambling bodies broke from the treeline. Charles scooped up his sword and swung. Robert turned his attention. ‘ _ Kill the wizard. Kill the wizard, kill the undead.’  _ Righteous fury burned away his fatigue. He spurred himself, flying into motion. His heavy legs tore at the earth. The cowled cultists eyes widened. He heard a feminine voice swear. Her hands pulled together and chanted a spell. Charles cried out. Riley screamed.

Robert dug his heel and pivoted. His shields edge struck the cultists throat. A horrible gurgle followed her to the earth. Robert stepped forward. His right heel raised and slammed down. Bone crunched and blood spewed. Robert turned to his companions.

One figure lay on the ground, headless and bleeding. Riley grappled with another undead and Charles hacked his sword against the last one. Both dead figures fell motionless. Charles swiftly cut the head from the one before him. He threw his sword aside and ran to her.

Robert looked back to the headless cultist. A snarl broke beneath his helmet.  _ ‘Motherless cur…’ _ He took his necklace out and nearly slapped it across the corpses arm. ‘ _ Light judge you.’  _ A flicker of power shielded her remains. The crusader righted himself and jogged to his companions.

Charles fumbled his hands over the gauze, wrapping one of Riley’s wounds. Robert clapped his shoulder and sank beside him. Riley lay cursing and crying. Several new bites scored her flesh. Charles met his eyes and visibly calmed. His hands steadied and began wrapping anew. Robert watched him for a moment and nodded. “Got a good hand there. Must be practiced.”

Charles grinned and glanced back. “Ah, yeah. Daltyn…”

“Can ya talk ‘bout this later!?” Riley shot her eyes between the two. “I...I could really use ‘elp.” 

Robert shook himself and nodded. “Right. Sorry ma’am.” He holstered his mace and scanned the woodlines. No immediate threats met his search. Robert extended his necklace and placed it over her heart. He stilled himself and reached to the power within.  _ ‘Holy light above, mend these wounds and enfold this woman in safety.’  _ A cascade of healing light poured from him. Riley gasped and fell back. Her wounds sealed. Searing light burned Robert’s veins. Soft new flesh knit over her marred flesh. A sigh breezed through her lips.

Sweat beaded over Roberts brow and he paused. Deep breaths filled and exited his lungs. Riley chuckled. “Uh...Gettin’ a bit...friendly there?”

Robert glanced down. His palm rested over Riley’s bosom. Hot shame and excitement surged through him. He snapped his arm back, swiftly putting his necklace back on. “I...I’m...sorry!”

A full and honest laugh shook her chest. “Oh, come now. I’m jus’ teasin’.” Charles chuckled and glanced away, stowing the gauze. “Ya act like ya ain’t never touched a woman a’fore!” The pair continued their laughter, slowly righting themselves.

Embarrassment crushed him. Robert muttered a halfhearted excuse and turned. His feet marched several strides away. ‘ _ Blasted...damned...not my fault…’ _

A hand gripped his shoulder. Robert glanced over. Riley met his eyes. Concern shined in her eyes. “I...Kasalis...you ‘ave ‘ad a woman afore...right?” Robert grunted and turned away. “Oh..I’m...im sorry. I only meant ta...ta jest…”

Robert stilled himself and nodded. “I…” He shook his head and looked skyward. “I know. Jus’...jus’ touched on one my fears, is all.”

Charles approached and pursed his lips. Riley glanced back. “Yur…” She blinked and quirked her head. Her gaze rounded back to Robert. “Yur fears? Why...how ya mean?” She looked him up and down. “I’m sure plenty’a women’s swooned fur ya. How you…”

Robert rolled his shoulder firmly, dislodging her hand. “Let it be.” Anger tinted his voice. “Jus’...jus’ let it be, a’right?”

Riley frowned and fell back. Her arms folded across her chest. “Yeah...yeah okay. I’ll…” She shook herself. “I’ll jus’...be quiet a while…” 

Charles glanced between his companions and sighed. “Well, Er…” He coughed and pointed to the corpses. “Those were some the men we were lookin’ for.” Robert glanced back and nodded. He stirred his legs and withdrew his necklace again. Three small blessings later he gasped against his pain. Concern painted across their faces, his companions shuffled in place. “We should...we should get on back to town...I think…”

Robert nodded and replaced his necklace again. He studiously ignored the searing embarrassment in his heart. “Come on. Let’s us get on back.” A murmur of assent followed him. Robert stirred himself into motion.  _ ‘Who she think she is…’ _ Bitter resentment lashed blindly in his mind. ‘ _ Laughin’ jus’ cause I’m…’  _ He folded his arms over his chest and frowned. ‘ _ Jus...jus’ cause I ain’t never…’ _ Dull throbbing pains built in his limbs. ‘ _...ain’t never gonna…’ _ Sorrow stabbed his heart. 

The adrenaline fell from his blood. Painful exhaustion built. Robert's legs stilled. Confusion fogged his mind.  _ ‘Come on then. Easy as steppin’...’ _ He stirred his leg and trudged it forward an inch. ‘ _ Come on now...I’m not broken…’ _ It’s twin left the ground and moved forth. Robert shook and fell. His knees slammed the earth. A gasping pant tore his throat open. His palms pressed against the soil, steadying himself.  _ ‘What? I...no…’ _

Charles and Riley ran to him and nattered an unintelligible medley of concern. Their sound fell beneath Robert’s awareness. He stared down, mind reeling. ‘ _ I’m...fine...I’m…’ _ Weak tremors shook and rattled his form. Creeping pain overtook his senses.  _ ‘...fine…’ _

A pair of hands clutched under his arms and brought him to his feet. Blurry shapes and colors swam in his vision. Robert grit his teeth and shook his head. ‘ _ They’re...carryin’ me?...no...can’t have that…’ _ His chin tucked to his chest. Robert reached within and recited the Laws of Hope. Painful tremors shook his heart. Heating fire exploded within. Robert clenched his teeth and finished his recitation. The power cooled and his heart slowed. 

  
Robert brought his feet beneath him. His legs pressed down, unsteady and weak. The concerned words of the others pressed incomprehensibly against him. Robert staggered forth, regaining a slow stride. His heels drug. Weakness clawed his mind and body. Robert groaned and looked ahead. The gates of Tristram lay in the distance, shrouded in light fog. He dipped his head and focused upon his breathing. ‘ _ I...think…’  _ His legs trod slowly forward. ‘ _...I think...I need to lay down…’ _


	35. Chapter 35

Cheerful sun rays shone through an open window. The bustle of a nervous town reached up through the birdsong, reaching the simple room. Robert sighed impatiently. He kicked his legs idly under the heavy blankets of his bed, and folded his arms. ‘ _ Rotten...no good…’ _ He shifted pointlessly in the bed. ‘ _...blasted...bed-rest.’  _ The small room, furnished in homely decoration and simple furniture, simmered under Roberts seething energy. Charles shifted uncomfortably on his stout chair. His nervous eyes flicked around, unwilling to make contact with Robert’s scathing orbs.

Robert screwed his eyes on Charles.  _ ‘...maybe this time…’  _ He cleared his throat. Charles flinched. “Oi, Charles...you wouldn’t mind fetchin’ some water for me, would ya?” 

The man folded his arms and looked studiously to a corner. “Now...I…” His teeth chattered almost imperceptibly. “...sir, I...mister Dragnarik said…” His arms rubbed each other. “...he said not to leave...unless...you tried to.” He shook his head firmly. “No. No sir. You stay there and you get your rest.”

A growl rumbled Robert’s chest. “Ya sure?” He folded his arms and glowered balefully. “‘Cause I’m sure he wouldn’t want me dying’ a thirst.” His palms clenched painfully. His muscles tightened and loosened. “Surely ya could get me some water…”

Charles whimpered. “...n-n-no! He...he said no! I’ll...ill call Leah.” Charles leaned around the doorframe and hollered. “Leah! Could you come here a minute?” He settled back down and resumed rubbing his arms. His voice dipped to a whisper. “Not letting you up. Not letting you up…”

Robert groaned and released his tension, falling back against the headboard. “Damn it man, your s’posed ta fall for it!” His stress buzzed through his lips. Robert pressed himself down. “Can’t get up and move if ya don’t fall for it…”

A tense silence filled the room. Charles fidgeted uncomfortably. Robert stared him down. A set of light footprints hurried up the stairs. Both heads turned to the door as Leah jogged in. “Hiya Charles! What can I do for you?” Robert traced his eyes over her form. She wore similar trappings from the last time he saw her, though muted in color.

Charles met her eyes and stiffened his spine. “Kasalis would like some water. Can you fetch it for him?” He swiveled around and met Robert’s gaze. Robert quirked a brow. Charles shivered and swiftly glanced back. “I’m supposed to be watching him, y’know?”

Leah chuckled and nodded. “Oh, sure. I get ya.” She turned her sunny visage to Robert. “And good morning Kasalis! Hope you slept well.”

Anger dissipated under her cheerful onslaught. Robert sighed and nodded. “Aye...I slept...well enough…” He shifted under his covers. “An’ thankee for tha water.”

A full laugh escaped past her closed fist. “...oh, man. You sure are convincing!” She breathed deeply and nodded. “And I’d be happy to help make your…” Mirth danced in her eyes. “‘Imprisonment’, easier on you.” Leah turned and vanished from sight. 

Quiet fell back upon the small room. Robert looked to the window and deflated. “I’m...I’m really not gettin’ out of ‘ere yet, am I?” 

Charles pursed his lips and glanced away. Several breaths passed. His shoulders hitched and he dipped his head. “Er...no. You’re not.” He scratched his short black hair. “I mean…” Confidence slowly built in his voice. “You fell down on patrol just yesterday. We almost had’a carry you back.” Charles sighed and twined his fingers. He met Robert’s sullen gaze. “You’ve been in bad shape since you got here, Sir.” He fell quiet and glanced down. “Everyone feels a debt to you already. We don’t want you breaking on our account…” The wind blew quietly outside. “We’d feel horrible. We don’t want you hurt, we want to thank you.” A soft chuckle shook his chest. “Least, I feel that way. Can’t speak for others.”

Robert bit his lip and looked aside. Moisture built under his eyes.  _ ‘Never meant for that...I’m jus’ tryin’a help…’ _ The building shame struck with his fatigue, wrenching away his strength.  _ ‘Jus’...tryin’a help…’ _ Sorrow clenched his gut. “I...I’m sorry…” He palmed his eyes. Moisture trailed behind. “I’m jus’ tryin’ ta help…” Fragility crept over his voice.

Charles hissed a breath in and shook his head. “Ah, come on...I didn’t…” A deep sigh depleted his chest. “I’m just...just telling you the truth. Don’t take it personally.” A small grin lightened his features. “After all..I did just talk all about how we  _ don’t  _ want you hurting, didn't I?”

Robert cracked a hoarse laugh. His eyes screwed shut and he shook his head. “...yeah...I s’pose ya did.” He covered his eyes beneath his palm. A quiet laugh rumbled in his chest. Robert shook his head and looked back up. “...Thankee.”

The two men sat, companionable silence stretching between them. The pleasant drone of the town outside lulled Robert, dragging his eyes down. Bone deep weariness re-emerged. The large man sighed and stretched in his bed. Charles visibly relaxed and leaned back.  _ ‘Maybe I’ll...just sleep a moment…’ _ Robert's eyelids fluttered. Footsteps echoed back up the stairs, and Leah stepped in.

“Got that water you wanted.” Charles grinned and nodded. His gaze trailed far off, peering out the window. In her hand she held a bulging waterskin.

Robert blinked and shook himself. “Ah, thankee Leah.” She approached and handed him the flask. He gratefully accepted and popped the stopper. Several cool, clean gulps whet his throat. “...Oh, thank you. That is heavenly.”

Leah chuckled and leaned back, folding her arms and crossing her heels. “Well, you are most welcome. And I’ll pass the compliments on to the well.” She winked and grinned.

Robert matched her grin and shook his head. “Oh, hush that. You know plenty well what I mean.” He placed the flask aside and folded his arms. A content sigh eased his pains.

“Oh? Do I?” Leah casually checked her nails. “Because it sounded like you were saying our well is divine.” She glanced back, eyes sparkling. “And it did work hard to make it. I’m sure it would appreciate the compliment.”

Robert chuckled and relaxed back. “Blast woman, fine!” Charles shook his head and laughed along. A full

Smile eased Roberts features. “Go tell the well whatever ya want!” 

Leah smiled triumphantly and nodded. “I think I will, thank you very much.” 

The three fell quiet. Easy breaths and quiet contemplation filled the room. Charles looked back to Leah and spoke softly. “Leah, by the way, how are the scouting parties faring?”

Leah’s grin fell. “Ah, yeah. We have two more hurt. Haven’t found any of the other missing, either.” A small hope rekindled in her eyes. “Though, Alice did find where the cultists are coming from.”

Robert surged up and grunted painfully. “What? Where!?” Righteous fury tamped down his discomfort. 

Charles and Leah flinched, shrinking back. Leah cleared her throat and met Robert’s hard glare. “No. I’m not telling you. If I did, you’d just run off and get yourself hurt again!” Robert snarled and folded his arms. Leah narrowed her eyes and steadied her breath. “Sulk if you want. I’m not telling. You need to rest.”

Charles spoke up. “Uh...yeah...you need to stay still, Kasalis.” He wiggled uncomfortably. “I mean...we just talked about this…”

Robert growled and threw his covers off. “I will  _ not _ stand by while those monsters hunt the innocent!” He swung his tired legs out and stood. Leah stepped up to him and crossed her arms. “Stand aside!” He wobbled slightly. “I have demons ta punish.”

Leah gripped his chin and tugged down. Robert yelped in surprise. Pain shot down his back. “No! No, you’re not going out to punish anything right now!” Her sharp eyes locked on his. Robert blinked and stuttered. “You. Need. Rest.” She released his jaw and drew a shaky breath. Her finger pointed sharply. “Bed.”

Robert licked his lips and nodded. “Yes ma’am.” Instincts from his youth flung him down. Memories of his mother when angry flit through him. “I’ll rest, ma’am.” 

Leah blinked and exhaled sharply. “Uh...yes. Good.” She nodded. “Stay in bed. Daltyn will schedule you back in when you’re ready.” Tiredness weighed over her shoulders. She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Good...okay...good…” A deep breath brought her grin back. “Okay. Charles, you good to keep watching him?” Charles nodded mutely. “Good. I’ll...i'll get back to my job then. Don’t let him get up.” She turned and marched out of the room.

Robert shifted and crossed his arms. A shiver wracked his spine.  _ ‘What is with women and gettin’ so scary?’  _ He shook his head and looked out the window. Melancholy flushed through him. ‘ _ I could be out there...I could be helpin’...’  _ A deep sigh rattled him. ‘ _ But...bedrest…’  _ The clamor of the town continued outside.  _ ‘Why’s I need bedrest? I’m not broken…’  _ He flexed his stiff muscles. Resentful aches pulsed through him. ‘ _ I can still fight...I could still get out there and help…’  _ Robert opened his palm and traced the creased lines with his eyes. ‘ _ I’m strong, and sturdy. I could put down a few more cultists, no problems…’ _ His body fell back, strength leaving him. ‘ _ I’ve a duty to get out there and fight for the innocent...I’ve a duty to at least...try…’ _

He glanced back to Charles’ uneasy form. “Hey...Charles…” His timid gaze met Robert’s. “...Could you fetch me a bowl of stew?”

Charles worked his jaw and shook his head. “No...no! We’ve just been over this!”

Robert sighed and leaned back. “Blast…”


	36. Chapter 36

Howling wind roared down the snowy mountainside. Tagaan idly scratched his jaw, and tugged his bear cloak from its errant position. His eyes wandered over the seven tribal totems of the Moot. The elder shaman of each clan sat beneath their respective totem pillar, swaddled heavily in furs and speaking fervently.  _ ‘They’ve been  _ debating _ since morning…’  _ Tagaan held his hand over his eyes, gazing to the sky. ‘ _...and it is, what? Five hours to sundown?’  _ Tagaan glanced worriedly at Rika. ‘ _ She is getting so old…’ _ The old shaman spoke again, interjecting over one of the younger shaman. Her words fell before reaching Tagaan, swallowed under the wintry air. A pause swept over the gathered shaman, and the ancestral spirit above the flame flicked her ears in assent. A shiver journeyed Tagaan’s spine. ‘ _ Ranikay! Ancestors...an ancestor!’  _ Giddy wonder warmed his core. ‘ _ She who tends the Ravaged Earth, the first shaman!’  _ He shook himself. ‘ _ Before my eyes...If I strain, I can just hear her over the wind…’  _ He stilled himself and focused his hearing. Ranikay’s ethereal words wisped along the wind. “...A fair point, Zaani, but…” A gust of wind swallowed her words and ruffled Tagaan’s mane. He rolled his shoulders and chuckled lightly. ‘ _ Ah, those words are not for males anyway. Still, an ancestor…’  _

Nostomo gripped his shoulder and shook firmly. “Tagaan, are you dreaming again?” Humor painted his father's strong voice. 

Tagaan blinked and flicked his ears. “Ah...I might have been.” Nostomo rumbled with laughter and leaned back. His simple fur cloak tussled in the wind. ‘ _ He wears but a simple pelt like me, and is just as bothered by the wind.’  _ Tagaan flexed his strong chest. The cold air nipped his extremities. ‘ _ Merely unpleasant. We are truly the Ancestor’s chosen.’  _ Pride swelled his heart and shook his head. “I am just so eager to bring us glory!” Tagaan thumped his chest and snorted. “To drive all challengers into the earth and make them submit!”

Nostomo narrowed his eyes and flicked his ears back. “Tagaan...that is not why we are here.” Tagaan deflated and waved his hand. “We are here to prove we are not weak. We are not here to win.”

“I know, I know!” Tagaan huffed and looked away, looking over the mountain tops. “Bah, I say what better way than victory.” He folded his arms and inflated his chest. “What else shows as much strength!?” His voice raised boisterously. “Throwing your challenger down and bellowing your victory over all!?” He flicked his ears firmly forward.

Nostomo lowered his voice. “Tagaan, my son.” Tagaan glanced back. Nostomo’s eyes burned furiously. His powerful frame tensed and swelled. “Listen to yourself!” Tagaan blinked and flinched back. ‘ _ Why is he so mad? I speak the truth.’  _ Nostomo leaned forward and pressed his ears flat. “‘Throw your challenger down?’ What nonsense do you speak!?” His massive palm clenched tight. “Such....such....violent words are unworthy of you!”

Tagaan rolled his shoulders back and retorted. “I  _ am  _ worthy! I have received the blessings of the ancients!” His right arm pulled up and flexed. Rippling muscle pulled tight beneath his thick hide. “You know this!” Hesitant concern strained his voice. “The whole clan knows this!”

Nostomo huffed and swung his head. “Tagaan,  _ listen _ to yourself!” His lips pulled back, baring his teeth. “I did not say you are unworthy, I said  _ they  _ are!” He leaned back and flicked his ears angrily. “Damn it, boy!” His head swung back and forth furiously. “What has gotten hold of you!?” Weariness replaced his voices anger. “You are better than this, Tagaan...why do you speak so?”

“I…” Tagaan clenched and relaxed his fists. “I...was given this blessing to be strong for our clan!” He lowered his voice and glanced aside. “I must be strong. You said it yourself, if I am weak, they will harry our clan!” He met Nostomo’s concerned gaze. “I  _ must  _ be strong father. I  _ must _ !” He struck his palm with his fist, punctuating the statement. 

Nostomo sighed and dipped his head. “Tagaan...quiet the pride in you and listen.” Tagaan flinched back. “Please, listen.” His heart dropped. Unease seized his gut. ‘ _ I...but…’ _ Nostomo reached out and gripped his body horn. “Cruelty is not strength.” Tagaan gasped painfully. “Dominance is not strength. Anger.” His thumb rubbed gently. “Is not strength.” His hand lowered and tapped Tagaan’s chest. “Strength is here, my son. Your resolve. Your courage.” He pulled back and folded his arms. “Your heart. That is strength, my son.” Pained sorrow drowned his eyes. “Talking like this...so prideful and violent…” His ears tucked back. “You sound as soulless as you look, my son…”

Tagaan jerked back. His hands flew to his short spirit horn. His jaw fell open. Searing pain and embarrassment burned his heart. ‘ _ What...could....’ _ Tagaan sputtered and grasped his heart. “How could you say that?” Profound hurt laced his suddenly small voice. “How...father…”

Nostomo lowered his head and sighed. “I...I only say it to let you know, my son…” His powerful legs stirred and brought him over to Tagaan. He seated himself near his son and slung his good arm over his shoulders. Tagaan leaned against his father and whimpered. “I...it isn't meant to hurt you...but…” His strong palm rubbed Tagaan’s arm. “Think if your mother heard you talk so…” Tagaan melwed and looked to the earth. ‘ _ If mother...the shame...she would be so ashamed…’  _ The howling wind gusted, blowing their manes. The many warrior braids flapped wildly. “...Your sister…” Tagaan flicked his ears back and nuzzled against his father. ‘ _ Daavansa would be angry...and so disappointed…’  _ A brief quiet fell between them. Nostomo squeezed his should gently. “...your brother…” Painful shame lanced his heart. ‘ _ Haazixan...my little brother...he would be so scared....so scared of  _ me…’ The cold bore heavier into his frame. ‘ _ Or worse...he would speak  _ like _ me...no...no....’  _ A quiet whimper escaped his throat. “You are strong, my son. I know you are.” He clacked his horns against Tagaan’s. “You don't need to convince me. And anyway…” His voice adopted a more jovial, fatherly tone. “Actions speak louder than words, my son. Do not  _ say  _ you will win.” Tagaan glanced thankfully aside, flicking his ears forth. “Enter the fray and  _ do _ win.” 

Tagaan barked a laugh and allowed the tension to fade. “I...yes father.” He slung his own arm over Nostomo’s shoulders. “I will not speak of victory. I will simply claim it.” He pulled his father, hugging him tightly.

Nostomo rumbled with laughter and flicked his ears. “Good. That kind of talk is fine.” He retracted his arm and sat forward. “We will  _ not _ fail our clan. For our women…”

“For our kin.” Tagaan straightened himself and released his father. 

“And for the ancestors.” Nostomo pressed his ears forth proudly. “I am glad to hear it, Tagaan.” He flexed his powerful arm. “Resolve is good. Resolve shall bring our clan honor.”

Quiet fell between the pair. Tagaan rolled his shoulders and flexed his neck. ‘ _ Do not speak of victory...merely claim it.’  _ His fists tightened and he pressed his ears forth. ‘ _ Resolve, not pride.’  _ He gazed off to the mountains again. ‘ _ I will face the other champions, and I will not fail.’  _ His muzzle lifted to the sun, basking in its weak rays. ‘ _ I will show them the might of the Sun Clan.’  _ Anger bubbled under his hide. ‘ _ Especially the Blood Clan...Those savages will falter.’  _ He screwed his gaze onto the distant form of the Blood clan representative. ‘ _ Devilish fiends...Murderous beasts…’  _ Tagaan licked his teeth. He assessed the blood clan representatives again. The two Khazra stood heavily swaddled in the biting cold. Their stark red fur grew harsh and uneven over their muscular and heavily scarred forms. The black and red paint of their horns curdled his blood. ‘ _ They will never best the sun clan. Never.’  _

Nostomo nudged him. “Tagaan, you drift again.” His father followed his gaze, landing on the Blood Clanmens. “...Do not dwell on it.” Iron laced his voice. “Heed me, Tagaan. They are not worth your disdain.”

Tagaan huffed and flicked his ears forth. “Right…” He turned his head and spat. “Murderous fiends…”

Nostomo rapped Tagaan’s forehead. “Do not think like that. They are a warrior people, true…” He cast his gaze back to the blood clanmens. “...but they  _ are _ a people, Tagaan. They are kin. Maybe they are violent…”

“Maybe!?” Tagaan guffawed. “They slew grandfather!” Burning resentment burned in his voice. “They are monsters!”

Nostomo sighed heavily. “Tagaan... _ they _ did not slay your grandsire.” He tiredly rubbed his eyes. “ _ A _ blood clan chieftain slew him. It was during a trial.” Deep sorrow painted his voice. “They are not guilty simply by association.” 

Tagaan hung his head and sighed. “I...I know that father…” His gaze lifted and hardened. “But those two...they are blood of his slayer.” Hatred etched deep into his strong features. “ _ They _ are similar. And so  _ they _ are murderous.” 

“You judge harshly and far too swift, Tagaan.” Nostomo flicked his ears back and huffed. “Many would say that simply because you have your mother’s blood you are a dishonorable fool, and A horrid disgrace.” He met Tagaan’s eyes again. “Do not fall prey to their thinking. You know it is wrong.”

“Bah!” Tagaan waved his hand and flicked his ears. “I know that. It is hard to simply forgive though…” Tagaan pressed his ears forth and laughed. “Why is today so full of lessons?”

Nostomo huffed and clouted the back of his head. “Because you keep saying foolish things, son of mine.” Tagaan smacked his father's chest and chuckled. “Stop saying them, and I won't have to lecture you.”

Tagaan allowed himself to laugh fully. “Well then, I hope the shaman finish soon!” Nostomo flicked his ears back humorously. “My mind wonders today, and I would rather not hear more!” Nostomo’s mighty arm shoved him playfully. “A trial would be far more welcome than a lecture!” 

Nostomo laughed and wiggled his ears. “And why is that my son?” He squinted and looked him over. “Surely my voice isn't so awful.”

“Oh no, father.” Mischief filled Tagaan’s voice. “That's not it.” He paused a moment and rested his head back. “It’s that I can  _ win _ a trial. I can’t  _ win  _ a lecture!”

Nostomo flicked his ears back and high, pushing Tagaan’s shoulder again. “Oh quiet, you disrespectful whelp.” He deliberately weakened his voice, rasping and wheezing. “Didn’t someone teach you to respect your elders? Lambs these days…”

Tagaan wheezed a laugh and raised his hands. “Ah, enough!” Eyes twinkling with humor, he glanced sidelong at Nostomo. “Seems I can’t even win a  _ joke _ .”

“This old ram still has a few tricks.” Nostomo puffed his chest up. He held the air for several seconds before releasing it and devolving into full bodied laughter. Tagaan joined his father, chuckling away the tension and fear building within. The wind tousled their manes and blew snow from the peaks. The quiet chatter of the shaman’s fell beneath the frosty wind. Tagaan looked over the other clans. ‘ _Blood clan. Moon clan.’_ He glanced at the silent Ice clan envoys. Their heavy cloaked conceal all of their light grey fur, but their sharp eyes gleamed within. His thoughts shifted to Gorinna. A single pump of heated blood flushed through him. He reluctantly drug his mind back to the present. ‘ _Moon clan. Us.’_ His thoughts shifted to Gorinna. A single pump of heated blood flushed through him. He reluctantly drug his mind back to the present ‘ _Tree clan. Rain clan.’_ He looked over the huddled forms. One of the four stood tall and proud, a simple cloth slung over his shoulders. His soft chestnut fur blew in the wind. A long mane, heavily woven in warrior braids of his own clan, whipped about. Tagaan’s envy flickered. ‘ _Well...they're not_ that _impressive…and I'm blessed too! Not as tall though...or muscular…and I don’t have as many warrior braids…’_ Tagaan shook himself and sighed, looking over the last clan. ‘ _The dune clan...the enigma…’_ The two sat huddled against a rocky shelf, far from the others. Absurdly heavy trappings covered them, concealing the entirety of their pale sandy fur. Their eyes watched nervously all around them. ‘ _The only clan without a sister clan...the outcasts. The strange ones.’_

Tagaan looked away and sighed. ‘ _ No point thinking about it...I will face them all soon enough.’  _ Worry flashed through his heart and mind. ‘ _ The Tree clan’s representative...he looks so mighty...do I even have a chance?’  _ Nostomo gripped his shoulder and squeezed. Tagaan blinked and looked back. Nostomo pressed his ears forward. ‘ _ Yes.’ _ Fiery resolve ignited in his heart. ‘ _ Of course I can. I will not fail my clan.’  _ He steadied his breath and straightened his back. ‘ _ I will not fail my family.’  _


	37. Chapter 37

Tagaan danced back, easily escaping the Ice clan warrior’s swing. His spear lashed out, cutting a small trail of red across the other male’s shoulder. His opponent swore and stumbled back. The hefty dane axe of his foe swept another broad arc, warding back Tagaan’s advance. Tagaan stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders. ‘ _ He is a lot stronger than he looks, and just as fast.’  _ The other warrior roughly matted down his fur and began pacing around Tagaan. ‘ _ Oh, we dance? Fine.’  _ Tagaan flicked his ears forth and mirrored his foe.

The two males circled each other. Howling wind blew snow, obscuring vision and dampening fur. Tagaan stilled his ears and adjusted his stance. His opponent gripped his axe higher and shook his head. The surrounding Khazra remained silent. Only the wind and moving air accompanied them. The warriors circled each other in the snow. ‘ _ What is his plan…’  _ Tagaan snorted and tensed his frame. ‘ _ He is thinking and waiting even more than I…’  _ The cold wind bit his ears. His strong chest took deep, easy breaths.  _ ‘If he will not attack, I suppose I must.’  _ Tagaan flexed his palms, and lunged forth.

His opponent sprung back, sweeping his axe in an elegant crescent. Tagaan’s spear brushed his fur. Tagaan followed his momentum, rolling along the frozen clearing. His hooves swiftly found purchase and sprung him up, spear pointed and ready. His opponent snorted and pawed the earth, axe resting easily in his grip. The warrior stepped forward and stared Tagaan down. Their stances readjusted, and both males lept.

Tagaan swung the butt of his spear wide, striking a painful blow on his foes knee. His opponent surged directly forward, swinging an arm wide and catching Tagaan’s mane. Sharp tugging pain hurled Tagaan down. His back struck ice. Snow billowed around. His hooves pulled to his chest and slammed out. A dull thump shook his legs, and his opponent grunted. Tagaan spun, righting himself swiftly. 

A short pause stilled the air. The two males eyed each other. His foe rubbed his chest, axe held tightly in his right hand. Tagaan pawed the earth deliberately.  _ ‘Come on...charge me, If you dare…’  _ A low growl rumbled his throat. His knuckles clenched firmly. The wind blew softly in his ears. His foe took up his axe and readopted a fighting stance. Hooves trailed in the snow. Tagaan blinked and bared his teeth.  _ ‘So...this is what it is like to fight me…’ _ Grim humor lightened his chest. ‘ _ I do not like it.’  _ Tagaan shifted his body and hopped a stride forward.

His opponent sprung around, dodging a nonexistent strike. Tagaan twisted his spear, thrusting into his foe's lunge. Steel arced, lashing deeply across Tagaan’s chest. A shock traveled down his arms. His foe wheezed, gurgling up bloody phlegm. An ethereal voice, powerful and resonant, bellowed. “Stop! Vaarn, you are defeated.” The moon clan shaman trot forward and began chanting healing magics. Tagaan hesitated and readied to withdraw his spear. A flash of energy enwrapped the Ice clan’s warrior and the shaman flicked her ears sharply. Tagaan yanked his spear out, trailing a small stream of blood. His opponent's wounds closed, and his breath steadied. Vaarn stood and rubbed his chest. Both warriors straightened their spines and saluted, ending the ritual combat. 

Tagaan turned and bowed before the towering specter above the ceremonial fire.  _ ‘Lord Haaxi, the warrior…’  _ A giddy thrill surged through him.  _ ‘Even if blood clan, I am still before an ancient!’  _ Haaxi flicked his ears forth. Tagaan spun and jogged back to his father and Rika. The bundled up nag stepped forward and pressed her palm against his chest. Warmth exploded through him and his wounds closed. Tagaan muttered a soft thanks and stood beside his father. Haaxi stretched his neck, shifting the colossal muscle rippling beneath. “A good bout.” His voice easily carried over the wind. “Impressive on both ends. Vaarn.” His eyes locked on the ice clan warrior. “You held well against a blessed foe. Continue your training, and return to these slopes one day. I would see such a fine warrior improve.” The heavy gaze shifted to Tagaan. “Tagaan, you strike decisively and waste little movement. Your mind is keen and swift. Do not fall into laxity.” The specter broke eye contact and looked about the crowd. “The Sun clan has impressed me again this day.”

Nostomo squeezed Tagaan’s shoulder. Elation burned through his veins.  _ ‘Yes! Three of my bouts are victory! Oh how Gorinna would be impressed…’  _ Tagaan wiggled his ears and returned his fathers gesture. ‘ _ Or, perhaps not…she is distressingly alike to mother…’  _ Silent chuckles shook his chest. “Faer of the Dune clan; Ghorn of the Tree clan; step forward.” The towering Ghorn strode over, followed by the slim Faer. Tagaan flicked his ears. ‘ _ Only five battles remain...Dune and Tree, Ice and Rain, Sun and Tree, Moon and Ice, and Sun and Blood…’  _ The warriors saluted each other and walked five paces away. They turned and adopted their favored stances. Ghorn dropped into the sleeping bear, hand axe and shield covering access to his body. Faer crouched low, twin daggers glinting in the snow.  _ ‘Hmm. That stance again...Stinging Viper, was it called?’  _ Haaxi paused, and bellowed. “Begin!”

Ghorn lunged forth, swinging a broad arc of steel. Faer tumbled, rolling into the giant’s legs. Twin grunts of pain filled the air, and Faer thrust his left knife in Ghorn’s thigh. Toughened hide swelled and stopped the blade an inch in, but blood trailed away still. Steel flashed again, knives sinking shallowly in Ghorns hide. The titan pushed himself and Faer hopped back, crouching low and falling still. Ghorn roared and stood, not bothering to mat down his leaking fur. His angry voice reached over the snow. “You’ll pay for that, sand worm.” Growling menace brushed by Faer, who flicked his ears stoically. 

Ghorn snarled and charged. His shield thrust out, edge aimed for Faer’s chest. The smaller Khazra skimmed alongside the strike, hurling himself behind the shield and into Ghorn. His twin daggers flashed and two new holes opened in Ghorn’s chest. The large Khazra stepped back and caught Faer’s chest with his shield, shoving the lithe warrior back. Faer followed the movement, rolling back in the snow. 

_ ‘Impressive...but he is getting hit every time he closes in…’  _ Ghorn bellowed and charged. His axe swung a deadly arc into the ground. Faer twisted and lept past the large male, rending two new lines of red in his fur. Ghorn’s axe flailed out blindly, following the elusive warrior. Steel met flesh and bit deep in Faer’s back. The warrior grunt in pain and finished his roll, dislodging from the blade in the same motion.  _ ‘Ghorn is barely wounded, and Faer is already hurt badly...this will only end one way…’  _

Tagaan watched the valiant Dune clan warrior duck, weave, and cut. Disappointment built in him. ‘ _ Ghorn has not even  _ tried _ something new…’  _ The giant charged and swung again. Faer ducked and stabbed into his thigh. Ghorn’s shield clouted Faer’s chest and hurled him back. Faer coughed weakly and rose to his feet. His movements grew ever slower.  _ ‘Ghorn is strong, but…’  _ Another howl of rage split the peaks. Ghorn charged and kicked his leg out. Faer wound around the limb and cut the tendon above his hoof. Ghorn cried out and cut a deep ravine in Faer’s arm. A pained cry broke Faer’s silence, who struck his knives into Ghorn’s thick chest. Wood pulled in and struck Faer’s head, throwing the small warrior back. Ghorn staggered back and rubbed his new wounds. His right leg stumbled and limped, no longer supporting his weight. Blood poured over the ice. ‘ _ He would have bled out, were it not for his blessing and the snow…’  _ Frothing rage burned in Ghorn’s eyes.  _ ‘He...is he even a warrior? Or is he just a brawler?’  _ The large male hurled himself forward and swung his axe wide. Faer ducked sluggishly. Steel met flesh, cutting deep and hurling Faer to the ice. Haaxi roared. “Enough! Faer, you are defeated.” The Dune clan shaman sprinted over and immediately began healing the wounded warrior. The Tree clan shaman rushed up and chanted healing magics. Both warriors relaxed and heaved deep and gentle sighs. Wounds healed and vigor restored, the combatants saluted each other and awaited judgment. 

Haaxi folded his bulging arms and tucked his chin low. “A...disappointing bout.” Dismay crept over the audience. “Ghorn…” His ears flicked back firmly. “You are blessed. You should have ended this fight minutes earlier. You should have adapted...you should have fought and not simply raged.” Anger sparked in his eyes. “Learn the warriors art, Ghorn. You are strong, and hold great potential. That is why we blessed you.” His ears flicked back softly. “But if this continues...I will strip your blessing myself.” He trailed his eyes back to Faer. “But Faer...you have impressed me.” Approval lit in his eyes and he flicked his ears forth. “You measured your foe and battled him well. I would see you become faster, that you are not hit at all.” The figure turned and spoke aloud. “The Dune clan has impressed me, and I find the Tree clan wanting.”

Upset bays sounded beneath the wind, quiet and angry. Disbelieving and dismayed snorts echoed over the Tree and Rain clan. Tagaan winced sympathetically. ‘ _ Such scathing words...hopefully he will have an opportunity to restore his clan’s image.’  _ Haaxi snorted and rolled his shoulders. “Vaarn of the Ice clan; Darvaan of the Rain clan; step forward.” Tagaan’s previous opponent and Darvaan approached and took up positions opposite each other. They exchanged salutes and readied their weapons. Vaarn relaxed back, sharp eyes watching Darvaan’s twin axes. The wind quieted. Several seconds passed. “Begin!” Haaxi roared.

Darvaan swung his blades high. Vaarn hopped back. Darvaan recovered swifty, resuming his readied stance. The two warriors circled each other. Tagaan allowed his mind to drift. ‘ _ I still must face Ghorn and Tavaaxi…’  _ He rolled his shoulders and stretched his limbs. ‘ _ Ghorn...he hardly seems a warrior at all, but Tavaaxi…”  _ He cast a surreptitious glance at the blood clan warrior. ‘ _ I’ve seen him fight...he is dangerous, well and truly…’  _ Steel clashed in the icy ring. Tagaan wrenched his focus back. Darvaan swung small, controlled arcs. Vaarn deflected his strikes. Both warriors held their strength back. ‘ _ Testing their opponents...good, good.’  _ Darvaan sprung back and crouched low. His ears twitched. Vaarn lunged, twisting his hips in a mighty swing. 

Darvaan’s eyes widened. His axes shot up, catching the blade. Steel sparked steel. Darvaan yelped. A sturdy hatchet spun off into the snow. Vaarn hunched himself, fighting the momentum of his swing. Darvaan’s remaining axe flashed and cut a deep lash over Vaarn’s back. The Ice clan warrior bellowed and dug his hooves sharply. His dane axe swung about, now following the previous swing’s momentum desperately. Darvaan slammed his shoulder against Vaarn. The smaller warrior stumbled away. A fist left his axe and swung powerfully. Blood sprayed from Darvaan’s mouth and both warriors paused.

Heavy pants shook the warriors chests. The wind thundered, hurling snow from the peaks. Vaarn lunged forward and reared his axe back. A lunge threw Darvaan beneath the blade. His axe swung up and caught his foes haft. Darvaan rooted his hooves and slammed his horns forth. A loud crack split the air. Vaarn staggered back, eyes reeling. Darvaan’s axe reared back and arced down. Vaarn hurled himself forward and dropped his axe. Vaarn’s right arm hooked beneath Darvaan’s and held back his blade. A thunderous hook from Vaarn’s left fist depleted Darvaan’s lungs. Vaarn twisted and hammered Darvaan’s chest with his knee. Darvaan’s left arm gripped Vaarn’s mane and pulled fiercely. A painful bellow echoed out. Darvaan braced his knee, halting Vaarn’s descent. His right arm crashed. Steel bit deep, opening a horrid channel in the Ice clan warrior’s chest. “Stop! Vaarn, you have been defeated.” 

The Ice and Rain shaman dashed forward, mending the wounds of the combatants. Respectful praise passed between the warriors, muffled and companionable. The warriors stood and saluted each other. Haaxi flicked his ears and looked them over. “A good fight. I am impressed with your tenacity, and ferocity.” His gaze returned to the crowd. “The Ice and Rain clans have pleased me.” Happy bays and clapping backs sounded under the wind. The warriors returned to their clans and rubbed their wounds. Haaxi paused and cleared his throat. “Tagaan of the Sun clan, Ghorn of the Tree clan; step forward.”

Tagaan rolled his shoulders and spurred his legs. ‘ _ A battle with another blessed foe…’ _ Anxiety and excitement warred. ‘ _ Now this will be a worthy fight!’  _ He slowed himself and stopped in the bloody ring of ice. Ghorn shuffled opposite him and saluted. Tagaan struck his arm chest with his fist, greeting his foe. His limbs slipped easily into the Swooping Hawk, and Ghorn adopted the Sleeping Bear. Tagaan tilted his ears back. ‘ _ Ah, so he does know  _ some _ of the warriors art.’  _ Tagaan clenched and released his muscles, warming his blood and preparing for movement. “Now, I expect a good battle. You are both blessed, and keen warriors.” He paused a breath. “Bring honor to your clans. Begin!”

Ghorn dashed forth. Tagaan sprung, hurling himself through a pigeon’s peck. Ghorn’s hooves skid and halted. Tagaan’s eyes widened. Spear point hit shield ineffectively and scratched off. An axe lashed out. Tagaan wrenched himself, grazing the strike. A thin cut marred his thigh. Ghorn’s shield reared up and slammed down. Tagaan pulled his legs under him and thrust them out. His hooves slammed the shield’s lower edge, toppling Ghorn’s momentum and tripping him.

Both males straightened themselves. Tagaan twisted his palms over his spear. Ghorn paced, circling his foe. The wind slowed.  _ ‘A fast learner then...but he was reckless when enraged…’  _ Ghorn stepped forward and slashed his axe carefully. Tagaan easily backpedaled the attack. ‘ _ He’s trying...trying  _ too _ hard…’  _ Tagaan lept forward, thrusting his spear. Ghorn’s shield rose swiftly. Tagaa’s spear arced down, spinning the butt into Ghorn’s head. Wood met horn. A painful shock rattled Tagaan’s shoulder. Ghorn grunted and pulled in his shield. Tagaan pressed his hooves and lept with the shove.

Tagaan hit the snow rolling and swiftly sprung up. Ghorn bared his teeth and shook his head. “Slimy little eel!” Anger simmered in Tagaan’s gut. “How about I break your other horn to match!”

Fury flashed in his heart. ‘ _ Insolent, wretched!...’  _ He seized his breathing and steadied himself. ‘ _...no...calm...I do not fight well angry.’  _ Tagaan snarled. “Shut your blathering mouth, cur!” His eyes watched Ghorn’s. “We fight, not talk!”

Ghorn’s axe flashed another broad arc. Tagaan twined around the blow and thrust his spear. Steel met wood. Splinters scattered. “Ha! Thought a Sun whelp would love talking!” He paused and dashed forth. Tagaan hopped back, anticipating the feint. His spear thrust and met wood again. “Spineless cowards that you are!”

Tagaan readjusted his grip and shot forth three prodding jabs. Ghorn’s shield intercepted each. “You bore me!” Tagaan laughed over the wind. “This is as much fun as fighting your namesake, Twig clan!” 

Ghorn’s ears pressed back and he growled. “Dream more, she-man. Maybe you’ll wake up soon!” He swung his axe down. Tagaan sidestepped and poked his arm. Fresh crimson fell to the floor. Ghorn snarled and thrust his shield. Tagaan rolled back, wood skimming his chest. Heavy stomps followed him. His eyes snapped up in the midst of his roll. Ghorn barreled on top of him, slicing blindly with his sharp axe. A deep pain exploded in his shoulder. Tagaan bellowed and shoved his left hand into Ghorn’s face. His questing fingers found a soft orb. Tagaan surged.

Ghorn howled in agony. Tagaan clutched his retreating head firmly and dug his fingers deeper in Ghorn’s right eye. The soft orb squished and plopped. Tagaan wrapped his fingers around its base and pulled.

Ghorn fell back and bellowed, falling harshly into the snow. Tagaan cast the expunged eye aside and wiped his hand in the snow. He stood and picked his spear from the ground. Ghorn shoved himself up, empty socket screwed shut. “Swine! Kaad!” He flung himself forward and cleaved the air. “Die! Die!”

Tagaan leapt to his hooves in a rolling dodge. Ghorn’s axe traced his back, slicing a shallow line. Tagaan grunted and whipped his spear around. The point flashed and lodged deeply in Ghorn’s arm. His stomach sank.  _ ‘No, no!’  _ Ghorn yelped triumphantly and pushed forward. Tagaan wrenched his spear free. Ghorn’s heavy body struck Tagaan.

The two males struck the ice. Ghorn reared his head back and slammed it forward. Tagaan lurched aside. Horns slammed the ice and Ghorn sputtered. Tagaan shoved and pushed, choking his spear tightly. Ghorn slammed down. Steel pierced his foes chest. A painful fist struck Tagaan’s breath from him. Wood slammed his horns. Dazzling lights splintered his vision. His sense of gravity fell. Numb ache covered his back and spine. A meaty fist struck his muzzle. Sharp ringing stung his ears. Blood sprayed and Tagaan slapped his fists weakly against his foe. A fuzzy voice called and the weight over his chest moved.

Tagaan rolled and heaved. Bile and blood stained the icy ground. His arms collapsed. Tagaan hit the ground. Dull sounds and feelings tickled all around him. A sudden spike of agony pulsed in his back and spread swiftly throughout his body. Clarity returned and Tagaan hacked phlegm from his lungs. Bony hands pulled him up. Tagaan groaned and gripped Rika’s shoulder. “Thank you, Rika.” He muttered. Tagaan turned painfully and saluted his foe. Ghorn rubbed his eyes and blinked harshly.  _ ‘Didn’t he...didn’t…’  _ Tagaan glanced back to where he discarded the eye. A small, empty patch of blood stuck out in the snow. ‘ _ Huh. Guess they got it back in?’  _ Ghorn saluted, glowering balefully. 

Haaxi snorted and called out. “A decent bout.” Tagaan flicked his ears and grit his teeth. ‘ _ I was beaten…’ _ Worry chewed away his gut. ‘ _ Struck down...if this was a fight…’  _ Haaxi looked at Ghorn. “Ghorn, you showed much greater restraint. I am pleased, but you allowed your anger to overwhelm you, and took a mortal wound.” Tagaan blinked and flicked his ears.  _ ‘Mortal wound? My spear…’  _ His eyes looked to Tagaan. “Tagaan...you fought well, but fell back. I’ve seen warriors like you; you lost your plan, and that led to your defeat. Practice adaptability.” Haaxi looked back over the crowd and huffed. “I am pleased.”

Tagaan heaved a sigh and turned, escorting Rika back to his father. ‘ _ So...I fought decently…’  _ He chuckled to himself. ‘ _ Well...at least I did not disappoint, hmm?’  _ Throbbing pain assailed him. Nostomo clapped Tagaan’s shoulder and flicked his ears. A deep weariness sank over Tagaan. He staggered to his father and sat down. Sleep immediately consumed him. Several quiet moments filled his consciousness.

“Tagaan of the Sun clan...” Tagaan jerked awake. A small spark of vigor reignited in his heart. “Tavaaxi of the Blood clan; Step forward.” Tagaan sprung and trot off. A sharp tug on his mane halted him. 

Tagaan yelped and turned. Rika muttered and pressed energy to him. Blessed vigor surged in his veins. Tagaan straightened himself and rolled his shoulders.

“Thank you, Rika.” He wiggled his ears and trot back to the circle. Tavaaxi pawed the earth, a hefty club gripped easily in his hand. The males exchanged salutes. Haaxi flicked his spectral ears. “Begin!” 

Tavaaxi bellowed and charged, swinging his club wildly over head. Tagaan blinked and hopped back. His spear thrust out. Tavaaxi twisted his body, flesh narrowly slicing along Tagaan’s spear, and spun. Wood flew into Tagaan’s view. Well honed instincts dropped him. His hooves shoved out, kicking Tavaaxi’s legs powerfully. The larger male grunted and pulled back.

Tagaan spun, rising smoothly. He pressed his ears back and observed his foe. Tavaaxi snorted and gripped his mace. Hateful black eyes pierced Tagaan. Horrible menace chilled his heart. ‘ _ That…’ _ His opponent yelled and dived forward. Tagaan sprung aside, whipping his spear tip across Tavaaxi’s back. Crimson spilled down his side. The other male growled and swung his club. Tagaan stepped back and struck the butt of his spear over Tavaaxi’s head. The other male hit the ground, rolling with the impact. A hoof sprung out and hammered Tagaan’s arm. Dull pain spiraled out. Both males scrambled to their hooves and eyed their opponents.

Tagaan rubbed his jaw and walked deliberately around his foe. Tavaaxi growled and approached, mace clutched firmly. A gust of wind billowed down the peaks. Tagaan flicked his ears and lunged. Tavaaxi pulled back, sweeping his wooden weapon wide. Steel sunk into flesh and wood slammed hide.

“Stop!” Blood spewed from Tavaaxi’s mouth. Tagaan’s stomach clenched.  _ ‘In the lung...no wonder he decided it finished…’  _ He gripped his hands around his spear and waited. The blood clan shaman skid beside them and immediately set about healing the wounded warrior. “Tavaaxi, you are beaten.” The blood clan warrior snarled. “A decent bout.” He locked eyes over Tagaan. “Tagaan, You again demonstrate your ability and quick thinking. I am pleased.” Tagaan flicked his ears. The shaman signaled to him. He set his hooves and pulled his spear free. “Tavaaxi, you were overwhelmed by a superior opponent with superior equipment. There is no shame in this.”

Tavaaxi spat bloody phlegm to the ground and shoved himself up. “ _ Superior opponent...superior equipment…”  _ His venomous voice barked. “And why!?” He pointed accusingly at the specter. “Why do they have greater warriors and arms!? Why ancestor, why!”

Haaxi reared himself and bared his teeth. “Watch yourself, whelp. I should…”

Tavaaxi stomped his hoof and snarled. “Watch myself? I have always! The ancestors do not!” He swayed his head furiously. “Where are  _ our  _ weapons and warriors, ancestor!?” Sorrow choked his anger. “We dig in the mountain, and we pray daily! Where are  _ our _ gifts?” 

Haaxi snorted and folded his colossal arms. “You ask greedily, descendent.” Tagaan shifted, walking slowly back. “You must work for your gifts. They shall not be given freely.”

Tavaaxi hung his head and groaned. “Of course, of course…the ancients have abandoned the Blood clan.” He looked back up, eyes brimming with remorseful fury. “Demons press from our north...humans hunt from the south...the game have all fled…” Tavaaxi turned and marched away. “Why would you help now?”

Haaxi worked his jaw silently, watching the Blood clan warrior depart. He flicked his ears and wrenched his gaze away. “...The warriors have pleased me. My trials are complete.” Quiet overtook the mountain. Harsh mutters passed between the shaman. Haaxi’s eyes trailed far off, and his spectral form vanished. ‘ _ The Blood clan suffers that much?’  _ Tagaan scrutinized the departing warrior. ‘ _ Tight skin...bulging muscle...shaky and jittery…’  _ Horror overtook him. ‘ _ Ancestors...he’s starving…I thought...I merely thought…’  _ His steps trailed back, eventually pressing him against the icy shelf. Tagaan slid down and dropped his spear. ‘ _ He is their greatest? The Blood clan is… but they are such mighty warriors…’ _

A heavy body rested near him. Nostomo gripped his son's shoulder and squeezed gently. “...I had not heard this before. The Blood clan is stubborn and prideful...I’d suspected, but never imagined…”

Tagaan mewled softly and nestled against Nostomo. “They...are our kin, aren’t they?” 

Nostomo huffed affirmatively. “Yes. We may be of different clans, but all Khazra are kin.”

“Then…” Courageous esolve built in Tagaan’s heart. “We must help them! Ease some of their burden.” Nostomo glanced quizzically at him. “Kin must help

Kin. It is what separates us from the brute beasts.”

Nostomo remained silent. Pride burned in his old eyes. “You...you are correct, my son.” He turned back and stared over the snowy peaks. “Kin must help them…” His grip tightened. Steel laced his voice. “...And the Sun clan shall answer.”


	38. Chapter 38

Tagaan crouched low, bushes obscuring his form. The small band of humans hooted their vile words and continued down the small footpath. Drizzling rain dampened scent and soaked his fur.  _ ‘They are truly deep in Moon clan territory…’  _ The humans moved beyond and Tagaan ghosted through the underbrush. ‘ _ That is the second patrol I’ve seen. Unsurprising, considering…’  _ His thoughts flashed back.  _ Rotting corpses , shambling in the rain. Humans in odd clothing moving through the trees.  _ Furious revulsion burned his throat. ‘ _ To defile the dead...even the dead of men...what sacrilege!’  _ Tagaan huffed and continued on. ‘ _ I’ve seen at least one of the strange humans walking among the risen dead...I wonder what connection they have?’  _

His mind worried away while his hooves trailed expertly through the woodlands.  _ ‘I hear so few birds...and even the insects seem absent.’  _ He paused and strained his senses. The rain muffled sound, the sparse sounds of wildlife barely discernible to his ears. All scent fell beneath the weather, and a light misty fog clouded sight. ‘ _ Such an eerie place...I do not like it here.’  _ He tightened his grip over his spear and flicked his ears. ‘ _ I should retrieve Gorinna and leave. This place is not for me.’  _ A faint chuckle rumbled through him. ‘ _ That is,  _ if  _ she’ll have me, and  _ if  _ she would wish to live in my home.’  _ The long building worry resurfaced. ‘ _ Damn...I hope she wants me. I…’  _ A shiver shook his spine. ‘ _ I don’t know what I’d do if she didn’t…’ _ His hooves slowed. ‘ _ Well...I would return home and try...to move on.’  _ Tagaan heaved a quiet sigh and pressed his ears back: ‘ _ My duties as chieftain would not cease. My family would not fade. Only...my heart…’  _ A grumbling groan cleared his distressing thoughts. ‘ _ Bah. I will find out when I get there. Not before.’  _

The rain increased its tempo while Tagaan moved forth. His eyes cast up, scanning the sky. ‘ _ It will get worse before it gets better, I fear.’  _ He rolled his shoulders and prowled along the underbrush. ‘ _ I should find the Moon clan’s kinlands before too long. Don’t want to be soaked through.’  _ A snapping twig caught his attention. 

Tagaan perked his ears and fell silent. Remaining still, he turned his head slowly. A risen dead shambled alongside one of the strange-men. Anger burned in Tagaan’s heart. ‘ _ Defiler…’  _ His palms creaked. Tagaan shifted himself and began stalking the pair. ‘ _ The dead seems stronger...I should strike it down first. The human seems weak.’  _ He paused and watched their movements intently. ‘ _ He walks clumsy. He does not have a warrior’s gait. Easy prey.’  _ Tagaan lifted smoothly from his crouch and hurled his spear. 

The pole shot forth and lanced the walking dead. Steel rammed through its rotten heart and deep into the muddy soil. Tagaan flicked his ears and sunk beneath the bushes. The human called out in its foul tongue and shot its gaze around. Tagaan studied the being. ‘ _ Panicked...looking in the opposite direction my spear flew from...standing in the open?’  _ A soft snort cleared his nostrils. ‘ _ This is no hunter, let along a warrior. I can end it with my hands.’  _ Tagaan waited for the human to look away and stood. His hooves broke into a trot. The human glanced back and widened their already fearful gaze. The human’s fingers twined together oddly, and it’s voice called out in a vile and altogether different tongue. Instinct seized Tagaan, and he pushed forth.  _ ‘I need to stop that! Whatever it is!’  _

The human screamed and hurled its fingers out. A roiling ball of darkness splashed Tagaan’s chest. Searing pain washed over him. Tendrils of the dark magic wormed under his skin. Light flashed and Tagaan’s hide sparked from within. 

Pain swiftly fading, Tagaan glanced down in befuddlement. Runes of power, the ancients, and protection faded on his hide. He pressed his ears forth and looked back up. “Oh. Ha! You are doomed!” 

The human cried in horror and stumbled back. Tagaan spurred himself and lunged forth. His hands caught the human’s head and hurled it down. A hoof raised and silenced its cries. Tagaan flicked his ears back and moved to his spear. A firm yank dislodged the polearm and dropped the impaled body. ‘ _ Disturbing...whatever that human did, it was...wrong.’  _ He clenched his teeth and looked over the bodies. ‘ _ They have no spirits, so I should not feel sorrow for killing them...but they  _ act _ intelligent. Hmm…’  _ His hand idly rubbed his spirit horn. ‘ _ No way to honor their passing either. I suppose I should simply let them lie.’ _ Flicking his ears back, Tagaan resumed his journey.

The dreary rain poured on. Tagaan weaved through the woodlands like a shadow. Another human patrol stomped nearby. Tagaan lowered himself and watched. They conversed in their hooting tongue, speaking low and intensely. Two relatively normal humans followed behind a towering silver-haired man. Strangely fascinating blue patterns painted his bare chest.  _ ‘He looks like one of the north men. Fearsome warriors…’ _ Tagaan stilled himself, waiting for them to pass. ‘ _ This is...more than simple safety.’  _ He narrowed his eyes and perked his ears. ‘ _ They are looking for something.’  _ Their heavy steps faded into the forest. Tagaan shoved the rising anxiety down and waited twenty breaths before moving.  _ ‘It must be important, for so many warriors to search. I must remain alert…’ _

Fatigue built in his crouching limbs. An hour of stalking through the woods passed, draining his stamina. Tagaan flicked his ears and paused. ‘ _ I must rest for a moment, and stretch my legs.’  _ His gaze flit about. ‘ _ I’ve been crouching too long…’  _ Tagaan sat himself under a tall tree and rested back.  _ ‘What could make the humans so desperate?’  _ He flicked his ears and breathed deeply.  _ ‘I don’t understand them...hmm.’  _ He rumbled thoughtfully and looked to the rainy sky. Vigor already seeped back through his limbs.  _ ‘Well...what would make  _ us _ send out so many warriors?’  _ He slowly clenched and released his muscles. ‘ _ I can think of few things...If someone raided the Cave of Elders...A kidnapping...a murderer...lost kin…’  _ Tagaan champed his teeth silently. ‘ _ So...if they are anything like us, it is about something sacred, or about kin…’ _ He scratched his chin and sighed. ‘ _ Eh. A worry for another time, perhaps.’  _

Tagaan rested another few minutes, allowing his body a brief respite. A deep breath filled his lungs and he stood to a crouch.  _ ‘Time to keep moving.’  _ His hooves shadowed through the woodlands. Distant, faint sounds reached through the rain. Wildlife moved sparsely. Tagaan hardened his senses and journeyed on.  _ ‘I must be nearing the Moon clan...their lands are not too far.’  _ He moved through the dark lands, accompanied only by the now driving rain. 

His strides continued. Several long moments of stalking passed. A primal instinct suddenly stopped him. Tagaan pressed himself low in the bushes.  _ ‘I am being watched.’ _ His gaze slowly turned through the forest. The rain-soaked wilderness shifted in the calm wind. Faint light brightened the land. He paused, falling still. His heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline surging. Seconds passed. Tagaan remained motionless through several minutes.  _ ‘I still feel their eyes on me…they are waiting to see what I do.’  _ He drew a deep breath and slowly rose. His spear point lowered, and he raised his left hand. “I am here peaceably. I mean no harm.” His soft words fell short under the pouring rain. Movement caught his eye. A heavily cloaked figure pointed a bow, arrow nocked and ready. Terror gripped his heart. Baleful yellow orbs burned beneath a deep cowl.  _ ‘Those eyes...Ancestors…’  _ He vaguely glimpsed a thin form smoothly moving within. Both waited. Tagaan’s blood chilled and he looked to the ground submissively. He stepped slowly back and away, continuing his journey. His eyes darted up. The figure remained terrifyingly still.  _ ‘By the Fang of Norag! What is that demon!?’  _ Tagaan’s breath hitched and he continued departing. His hooves stumbled and scratched several times. He continued leaving. The feeling of those horrid eyes slowly faded. 

Tagaan fell back another thirty paces and ran through the underbrush.  _ Get away. Get far away. _ His mind screamed at him. Every stride further from the demon eased his panicking heart until finally he paused and crouched next to a tree. His labored breathing slowed. The rain cooled his warming muscles. Gentle wind and the distant sound of birds soothed him. Tagaan rubbed his eyes and resumed his journey.  _ ‘I’ve been turned around…’  _ He glanced over the sky and allowed the wind to caress him. ‘ _ Hmm...I think this is north…’  _ His gaze flicked and he sighed softly. ‘ _ Only one thing to do...continue to a hill or wait until morning to find my bearings.’  _ Tagaan stalked forward. ‘ _ And I cannot abide inaction.’  _

He moved through the woodland, allowing his mind to wander. ‘ _ What  _ shall  _ I tell the Moon clan warriors?’  _ Silent champs worked his jaw. ‘ _ Perhaps…”Greetings! I am Tagaan, of the Sun clan. I seek the one called Gorinna.”...That should work, I think.’  _ An odd shape in the muddy path caught his attention. ‘ _...What is this?...’  _ He stopped down and scrutinized the trail. Two sets of footprints marched alongside each other, partially hidden in the rain and mud.  _ ‘Not that…’ _ His eyes locked over the rut between them. ‘ _...no, not a rut...that is something being dragged.’  _ He dropped to his knees and peered close. ‘ _ Something small...wait…’ _ Small human footprints, barely visible in the soft ground, lay beside the drag marks. ‘ _ A child? Someone is dragging a... child?’  _ Cold dread seized his heart. ‘ _ I must move swiftly!’  _ He looked up and followed the trail with his eyes. ‘ _ It winds up into the mountains...I need to head them off. I might not catch them otherwise...and if I do not…’  _ His hooves hammered the earth. Like a shadowy eel he wound through the woodland. Several minutes later he heard something. Muffled cries and the conversation of humans. Tagaan moved forward and peered around a tree. Fury spiked in his heart.

Two of the strangely dressed humans walked along a small footpath. The male drug a squirming child by their bound hands. Fluid poured from the child’s red eyes. Soft whimpers, muffled by a cloth over her mouth, reached him.  _ ‘There you are…’  _ Anger tightened his jaw. ‘ _ A kidnapping.  _ Despicable. _ ’  _ He shrunk low, waiting for them to pass. ‘ _ Monsters. Wretched monsters.’  _ The trio moved along the path beyond him. Tagaan rose and silently walked behind them. His spear cocked back. “Filth!” He roared into the rain and hurled his weapon.

The humans turned, eyes wide. Steel-tipped wood thundered through the rain, slamming home in the child-stealer’s throat. The broken body collapsed back. A pleasing scream rose from the dead man’s companion. Tagaan sprinted through the rain. The human brought her hands up wardingly. Tagaan’s belt knife flashed. His horns slammed the human’s skull. The body crumpled, throat split and head cracked. Tagaan reared himself up and looked back to the child. 

The crying child desperately huddled away, still bound in the dead grip of his captor. Tagaan stilled himself and raised his hands. “I am a friend.” He pointed to himself and pressed his ears painfully forward. “I am Tagaan. Tagaan.” He tentatively stepped forward. The child whimpered, but fell still. Tagaan wiggled his ears and intently watched the child’s.  _ ‘It’s ears don’t move...it must be terrified…’ _ He gently reached his hand out and pulled at the gag. His knife slowly came into view. “I am going to help you.” The child glanced fearfully at the knife and back to him. A soft whimper rent his heart. He reached up and slowly cut the child’s gag. Immediately the child cried out and more moisture fell from its eyes. Tagaan clicked his tongue worriedly. ‘ _ Is it broken? Why do it’s eyes leak?’  _ Distress nibbled his heart. ‘ _ I must return it to its shaman. But…’  _ He flicked his ears. ‘ _ They would not welcome me...all I can truly do is…’  _

Tagaan sighed deeply and gently took the child’s bound hands. His knife twitched and the bonds fell away. He gripped the child’s shoulder and rubbed his thumb in small circles. The young one looked up to him, eyes sparkling. Tagaan hesitated, and reversed the grip on his knife. The child blinked and hesitantly took the blade. “That way…” Tagaan pointed toward the human village he had seen earlier. “Your people are that way.” A sniffle accompanied the child bobbing its head. Curiosity bubbled under Tagaan’s concern. ‘ _ Does that...is that an affirmative? Humans are so strange…’  _ He gently pushed the child. She walked several steps and turned around. Teeth bared, she spoke several barking words and sprinted off through the underbrush. ‘ _ Threatening me? Ha! I like her spirit!’  _ His ears wiggled and he sighed deeply. ‘ _ She will be fine, then. All she needs do is find her people.’  _ A nagging worry wormed in his heart. ‘ _ I hope she if fine…Ancestors, if I just sent her to her death…’  _ He pressed his ears flat and grit his teeth. ‘ _ It is all I can do.’  _ Uneasiness nibbled his conscience. ‘ _ I must look to my own affairs...I need to find the Moon clan.’  _

He traveled through the rainy land another hour, striking deep into the forest. His eyes fell over a tribal totem, decorated in the blue and black of the Moon clan. ‘ _ Excellent! I am finally here.’  _ He cleared his throat and ceased crouching. His eyes strained against the rain. The path traveled up the hill, opening into the kinlands of the Moon clan. Tagaan’s heart chilled. Spiky barricades jut from every building. Crude walls marred the serene countryside. He spotted several Moon clansmen wandering through the rain, slow and steady.  _ ‘What is...what is happening here?’  _ A bleating whistle caught his attention. A Moon warrior trot to him. Tagaan lowered his spear and set it on the ground. “Greetings!” He called over the rain. The other male echoed him and approached. “I am Tagaan, of the Sun clan. I seek the woman named Gorinna.”

The other male extended his palm. Tagaan clasped it. “I am Chaan.” Doubt creased his brow. “You come at a bad time, Sun clan.” Chaan glanced aside, looking deep in the woods. “The Chieftian’s daughter is missing, along with several other children from the village.” A shudder wracked him. “As if the dead rising wasn’t enough…”

  
Roaring fury heated his core. Tagaan snarled and clenched his free fist. ‘ _ Fine then. Gorinna will have to wait.’  _ He cleared his throat and looked back over the woodlands. “This is grave news…” His eyes snapped back to Chaan. “Tell me how I can help.”


	39. Chapter 39

Robert sipped the mug of frothy mead before him. The splendid liquid tickled his throat and warmed his memories. ‘ _ Ah, Mead...I can see why mother liked ya so.’  _ He grinned at his simple mug. ‘ _ What was it she always called ya? “Blessed Drops a Sunshine?”’  _ A soft chuckle breezed through his lips. ‘ _ I can see why...this is great stuff.’  _ He leaned back and exhaled softly. ‘ _ Why, I’d bet good gold mother’d chug this tankard, slam it down, an’ be back with Trisha within the hour!’  _ Bitter, melancholy thoughts swept through him. ‘ _ Damnation. I’m feelin’ much better. I should be out there, helping search.’  _ Guilt swallowed his conscience. ‘’ _ Stead I’m here, warm an’ drinkin’ while she’s cold an’ abducted…’  _ Robert sighed, sweetness of the golden liquid burned to ash. ‘ _...Damnation...I should be out there…’  _

“It’s alright, Kasalis.” A gentle voice coaxed. Leah say herself across from him. “They’ll be back in no time, and then we can  _ all _ stop fretting.” Robert glanced up and smirked. Leah reached her hand over and squeezed his. Her warm smile thawed the edges of his icy dread. “Half the town’s out looking for her. It’ll be okay.” Her smile faltered. She flicked her eyes over to another table. “Poor Sasha…no one deserves to have their daughter snatched away.” Robert sighed and nodded. Distraught whimpers and muffled cries occasionally wrenched his heart. “...She’ll be okay, Kasalis. Don’t feel guilty about resting.” A smirk tugged her lips. “I mean,  _ Sasha, _ her mother, told you to keep resting. Robert nodded halfheartedly and sipped his drink.  _ ‘She hasn’t let go’a my hand…I like it…’ _ He turned his palm and returned her gentle squeeze. “It’ll be alright, big guy.” Her hand slipped from his. Disappointment tugged his gut. “...I’m going to go talk to Sasha some more. Try and keep her mind off this.”

Robert nodded more coherently. “Aye. You should.” A lopsided grin stretched over him. “She’s the one real hurt. I’m jus’ mopin’.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips. “Yeah, of what you two are missing ‘daughter’ ranks a bit higher than ‘patrol duty.’” Humor sparkled in her eyes.

A laugh stirred his lungs. “Ah...aye. ‘Specially when ya put it that way…” He shook his head and smiled. “Aye. I’ll be okay. Thankee Leah.”

Leah’s bright voice warmed his soul. “You’re more than welcome, Kasalis.” She stood and moved from view. “It's honestly the least that I can do.”

Robert nodded and sipped his drink. ‘ _ Good woman, that Leah...warmin’ spirits and cheerin’ us on…’  _ A melancholy smile took his features. ‘ _ Don’t know what I’d do, not fur her.’  _ He shook his head and chuckled. ‘ _ Somethin’ stupid, prolly.’  _ A brief hesitation swept over him. ‘ _...Somethin’  _ really  _ stupid, prolly.’  _ His thoughts fell quiet. He sipped his mead. Quiet chatter struck between the two women in the corner of the tavern. Robert grinned. ‘ _ Already talkin’ bout funny things little Trish’s done?’  _ He shook his head and sighed. ‘ _ Damnation. She  _ is  _ good.’  _

Several minutes of quiet contemplation slowly drained his mug. Pleasant warmth built in his belly, and Robert sighed happily. Leaning back, he rested against his sturdy chair. His eyes languidly closed. 

Someone yelled in town. Robert snapped his eyes open, looking sharply to the door.  _ ‘Now what’s…’  _ Another yell, louder and more urgent, sounded out. Roberts features hardened. ‘ _ Almost sounds like…’ _

The door swung open. A young boy, face fearful and panicked barreled inside. “Ta arms! Tha town’s unner attack!”

Robert grit his teeth and shoved his chair back. ‘ _ No rest then. Fine. S’what I was askin’ for anyway.’  _ Rolling his shoulders, Robert strode forward. “Which gate, lad?” 

The child’s face lit. “East!” Robert nodded and entered the pouring rain. The boy shortly exited the tavern, now confidently yelling the same message further in town. 

A small grin crossed Roberts face. ‘ _ Aye, lad. Don’t you worry.’  _ He marched forward, entering the town’s smithy. ‘ _ This’ll get taken care of.’  _ Robert entered the small forging pavilion and called out. “Haedrig! Is my hammer here?”

A gruff accented voice called from inside the shop. “Aye! S’right there, north side top rack.” 

Robert scanned the northern racks and grinned. “Thanks!” His fingers closed around the familiar steel of his mace. Robert picked his shield from the wall and easily slipped his arm through it. ‘ _ Ah...now that feels  _ much _ better!’  _ An angry flint and savage smile sparked over his face. ‘ _ Now...lets see who decided ta’ attack.’  _

He spurred his legs and jogged to the eastern gate. He rounded the bend and stopped cold. Rumford and two other militiamen desperately hacked down from the wall. Broken splinters and shattered logs fell into town, and a horde of risen dead stumbled through the open gates. 

Robert charged forward and lit his body with the flames of punishment. He instinctively began reciting the Laws of Valor. ‘ _ Engage obstacles with tenacity and fervor.’  _ His feet hammered the earth. Robert bellowed and slammed his shield into the foremost skeleton. Bones scattered, burning in the rain. ‘ _ Face the darkness blade in hand.’  _ Robert tightened his grip and slammed his mace down, shattering the form of another skeleton. Several rusted blades swung out. Robert easily deflected the poor strikes. ‘ _ Crush those who would oppose the cause.’  _ His weapon lashed out, scattering another risen dead. ‘ _ Pity the frail, challenge the mighty.’  _ Roaring power ignited in his heart. Frantic pulses wavered his focus. ‘ _ Destroy any who would harm the innocent.’ _ Robert tapped the wellspring within and infused his shield. His arm tucked back and swung out, throwing more burning bones into the air. ‘ _ Show no weakness.’  _ A blade cut a shallow rivet through his thigh. Robert grit his teeth and crushed the skeleton. Burning bones plopped in the mud. ‘ _ Never. Surrender.’  _ He crushed the ribs of a skeleton, emphasizing the final word. Heat exploded in his heart and righteous strength flooded his body. 

Robert swung his mace wide, crushing aside the front skeleton. Rusted blades swung mechanically and met steel-covered wood. Following his momentum, Robert slammed his shield. Another set of bones fell in the mud. Steel arced overhead, and crushed a skeleton to the floor. Robert shifted and swung his mace again, repeating the cycle. Bones broke. He pivoted his hips and slammed his shield. Splinters of burning white danced in the air. His hammer arced down. Fragments of his fallen foe embedded in the mud. Steel swung. Bones broke. Shield slammed bone aside. Splinters of burning white danced in the air. Steel thundered down. Fragments of his fallen for embedded in the mud.

Robert heaved a heavy breath and stepped back, crouching behind his shield. Swords scraped his tower. He stilled his breath, calming his racing heart and resting his arms. The undead struck incessantly. Robert grimaced and set his shoulder. ‘ _ There are a lot of them...I need to pace myself. And I don’t have my armor… I must fight conservatively.’  _ He twisted slightly and swung his hammer down. A skull broke away. His mace swung, breaking another skull. Robert pulled back and observed the horde.  _ ‘Akarat’s teeth...but there are a lot of them…’  _ Setting his feet, Robert resumed his rhythm. 

Steel swung. Bones scattered. His shield tucked in and flung out. Eerie creaking filled his ears. He swung his hammer, casting another risen dead down. Swords swung and prodded. Robert tucked behind his shield and repeated his pattern. His breaths grew labored. Painful fatigue built in his chest and arms. Robert became dimly aware of others fighting beside him. He snarled and pushed himself forward a long stride.  _ ‘ _ I _ will be the vanguard.  _ I  _ will bleed and suffer, that they do not.’  _ A sword cut his arm. Robert grunted and crushed the skeleton. Blades clattered off his shield. Robert twisted and cast the fiends aside. Blades prodded from behind him, striking down a fair number of the risen dead. Faint pride lit within his heart. ‘ _ Aye lads, good on ya. Stick behind me an’ we’ll win this yet!’  _ Robert stepped back and caught his breath. Inspiration sparked “Ho then, ye warriors of Zakarum!” He called. “What is the Warrior’s Oath!?”

A brief moment passed before an uncoordinated chorus called into the rain. “I shall stand against the shadow, for all that is behind me!”

Robert felt a shift in the warrior’s mood. He threw his own voice into the air, leading the oath. “And I shall fight all darkness beneath Akarat’s light!” The militia picked up in volume, synchronizing their call. “To the last breath, to the last blade, I shall battle evil!” Robert crushed a skeleton aside. Warmth lit his heart. “My sword and soul! Now and Forever, I pledge to the Light!” He called on the power within and willed it to spread. Searing agony weakened his heart. 

A warm light radiated out. Wisps of vigorous power wiggled into the hearts of those nearby him. Robert smiled painfully and cast another skeleton down. ‘ _ Ah, there we go.’  _ A small cheer flew over the combatants. Bones broke under a renewed onslaught. Robert collapsed to a knee, catching most of his weight with shield. ‘ _ Ah...that’s the price…’  _ He steadied his breath and dipped his head. ‘ _...rest now, so I can fight later. Rest now, so I can fight later…’  _ The militiamen stepped around him, desolating the undead horde. Several grunts of pain joined the clashing forces. Robert filled his lungs and depleted them slowly. Pain faded from his heart. ‘ _ Jus’ a moment more…’  _

Triumphant cries rent the evening. Robert pulled his head up. A grizzled militiaman battered the final skeleton the muddy earth. Calls and cheers filled the air. Robert grinned and pushed himself up. Hands clapped his shoulders. Smiles and hoots circled all around. Robert shook his head and cleared his throat. “Oi now, lets us gather up the skulls.”

The militia paused before setting about the task. Grim reality joined their jubilant victory. The men swiftly gathered the skulls into a small pile within the town’s border. Robert nodded and knelt before the stack. His eyes traced over the numerous skulls. ‘ _ At least fourty...Damnation…’  _ He set his armaments aside and removed his necklace. Clutching the ephemeral braid in his palms, he spoke a quiet prayer. “Heavenly light above; Akarat, prophet of Zakarum; I beg, hear my prayer.” He licked his lips and channeled power. “Protect these fallen, that they can rest in your embrace.” Searing power shot through his arms. “Guard them from predation, and keep them safe.” The power built. “Amen.” A chorus of amens accompanied his conclusion, and magnificent light enveloped the pile of broken bones. The men cheered and called out. Robert grinned softly and stood. Fatigue burned his veins.  _ ‘I...I should get back to the inn...get some rest now…’  _ He picked his weapons up and trudged back to the smithy. Calls and cheers were brushed off. Robert re-racked his arms and heaved a deep sigh. ‘ _ Town’s nice’an safe now. I’ll...I’ll go ask Leah for another mead.’  _ His feet shuffled tiredly back to the Slaughtered Calf Inn. Robert paused and shook his head. ‘ _ Still don’t understand such a morbid name…’  _

Leah stood in the doorway. Concerned hope etched her features. “Kasalis? Is everything alright?” A soft gasp startled him. “Your bleeding!”

Robert nodded and waved his hand. “Aw, naw. I’ll be fine.” He grinned and tromped to his chair. “Jus’...uh…”

He scratched his hair and his grin turned sheepish. “...could I have another mead?” 

Leah pursed her lips and folded her arms. A hard flint shone in her eye. “Only if you bandage those cuts!”

Robert drew a deep breath and sighed. “Oh, damn blast it woman.” A smile broke over his irritated facade. “Alright, I’ll get myself patched up. I promise.”

Leah smirked and shook her head. “Nope. Bandages or no mead.”

A groan rumbled through him. “Oh...fine, fine.” He pushed his chair back and dug in his pouches. Leah nodded and turned, walking into the cellar room. A roll of thread and twine plopped to the table. He grimaced deeply and shook his head. ‘ _ Right. Nothin’ for it. Do need to get patched up.’  _ Robert grit his teeth and picked up the needle. 

Leah returned and gasped. “Kasalis! I said  _ bandages _ , not stitches!” She jogged over and deposited a fresh mug of mead before him. “Don’t you have any!?” Panic strained her pleasant voice.

Robert furrowed his brows and pulled the last stitch on his leg tight. “No.” He grit his teeth and cut the twine off. “Gut and thread works jus’ as well. And’s a hell of a lot cheaper.” His hands swiftly rethreaded the needle and dipped in his next wound. “This jus’ hurts is all.”

Leah flinched and looked away, seating herself across from him. “I...well, sure. But…” She rubbed her neck and fidgeted. “We’d give you some bandages if you asked, you know.”

Robert grinned and shook his head. “Oh I know ya would. But I don’t need ‘em.” He tugged the string taut and grimaced briefly. “Best save ‘em fur someone that does.” 

Leah let out a quiet sigh and leaned back. “Well...fine. If that’s what you want.” Irritability tinged her tone. “So, is everything alright out there?”

Fervent cheers roused outside. “Ah, well. Certainly sounds so, leastwise.” He smirked and rethreaded his needle. “Aye. Dead’s stopped an’ blessed. Won’t be botherin’ us no more.” His expression darkened briefly. “Least...won’t fur a while…” Quiet overtook him. His needle dipped in and out. 

“Sasha!” A voice called out. Robert turned his head up and blinked. Alice, shadowed in a heavy cloak, cradled Trisha in her arms. Her seething orbs flicked over his. “Trisha is safe.”

The little girl looked over and cried out. “Mommy!” Sasha stormed to her feet and took the little girl up. A loud bell rang in the town center. Robert leaned back and chuckled, relishing the sight of the reunited family. Alice slipped to a corner and stood, quiet and smiling. 

Several minutes of inchorenent celebration passed. Stinging throbs picked at Robert’s mind. Eventually he sighed and looked down. ‘ _ What’s even...Ah. Right.’  _ He sighed and picked his needle back up. ‘ _ In and out...in and out…’ _ Teeth gritted, he slowly bound his wounds. Numerous and heavy footfalls sounded outside the inn. A flood of people entered. A man cried aloud and ran to Sasha. He hugged up both mother and daughter, laughing and crying freely. ‘ _ Ah...the father, I s’pose?’  _ A cheerful kiss passed between him and Sasha. ‘ _ Yep. Good to see.’  _ A heavy body sat in a chair nearby. Robert glanced over. Dragnarik nodded slightly, massive arms folded and visage stoic. 

The din slowly died down. People trailed off, returning to their own dwelling and cheering in the evening rain. Robert sighed happily, resting briefly. Sasha walked over to Alice and gripped her hand tightly. “Thank you!” Tearful joy sparkled in her eyes. “Thank you, ma’am! Thank you for saving her!” She slipped her hand free and slung it over her shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you…”

Alice returned her hug awkwardly and laughed softly. “Actually...I didn’t save her.” Quiet filled the room. Robert furrowed his brows and dipped his needle again. “I merely found her running back home.”

Sasha pulled back and gaped. She blinked and rubbed her daughter’s chin. “You escaped!? How...how...why…”

Trisha piped up, cheeks rosy and happy again. “A goatman!” Silence seized the room. “A goatman killed tha bad men!” She quieted and looked around. 

Robert fliched. Blood seeped from his needle. He glanced down and tugged it from his flesh. ‘ _ A...khazra…’  _ Furious anger burned in his heart. ‘ _...saved her…’  _ Alice leaned back, a pensive look crossing over her. Sasha worked her jaw silently before squeaking out. “A...Khazra? A goatman!?” She shook her head and bobbed her child. “No, no, your mistaken! The...the goatmen are evil!” Robert silently agreed.

Trisha puffed her cheeks and pouted. “I’m not lying mommy!” She reached around her skirt and withdrew a dangerous looking knife. “See? He gave…”

“Put that down!” Sasha cried and gripped the knife.

Her husband called out and grabbed her hand. “Sasha! Darling! It's just a knife!” The couple whispered fervently to each other. Trisha whimpered. Both parents stopped short. The father shot Sasha a pointed look. “It’s alright sweety, you can keep it.” Menace flashed in his eyes. 

Dragnarik stood and approached. “If I may?” He extended his hand. Trisha hesitated before handing him the knife. The old giant looked over the blade. “Elk horn...she’s not lying.” Quiet filled the room. Robert grit his teeth. ‘ _ But...a...why…’  _ Dragnarik flipped the knife and handed it back to her. His gravelly voice softened. “Did you see his horns, little one?” Trisha nodded. “What color was this…” He tapped the left side of his head. “...one?”

Trisha scrunched her nose and paused. “Blue...and yellow.”

Dragnarik nodded and pat her head. “Sun clan...I thought so. They are more agreeable than the other clans.”

“I think I might know why he saved her.” Alice spoke softly, thoughtfully tapping her mouth. “I spared one with the same color earlier.” Her eyes looked into the distance. “His horn was different from the local Khazra. It stoked my curiosity, and I let it live.” She folded her arms and chuckled softly. “Perhaps he was merely paying it forward.” 

  
The conversation continued. Robert choked back his words. Sounds and words blended together. He looked down at his bloody arm. ‘ _ A Khazra...a Khazra saved her?’  _ Tears fell, diluting the crimson fluid. ‘ _ I...but...they are evil...monsters all…’ _ He tugged the needle sluggishly, digging deep into his flesh. ‘ _ They...but they are…’  _ He pulled the needle, numb and shocked. ‘ _ Why?’ _


	40. Chapter 40

Robert rolled his shoulders, shifting uneasily in his heavy armor. Rain splattered against his armor, falling off the heavily waxed surface. ‘ _ Akarat bless you, Haedrig.’  _ His eyes trailed over the horizon. Fat rain clouds poured their tears. A gentle wind stirred the land. Robert turned and asked Dragnarik. “So, mind remindin’ me why’s jus’ the two a us?” 

The old warrior spoke softly, simple axe gripped lightly in his massive hand. “We are the only competent fighters aside from Daltyn and Alice.” He peered through the trees. “Daltyn is needed to lead the militia. Alice would fare poorly in an assault.” His heavy footfalls moved steadily onward. “That is why.”

Robert pursed his lips and glanced away. “Well...aye. I s’pose…” He paused. “So...she said they’s based out’a the old cathedral on the hill?” His finger pointed hesitantly. “That one? That...ruin?” Uneasy anger roiled in his gut. ‘ _ Such a grand building, fallen like that…’  _ He sighed and pressed on. ‘ _ A blasted shame…’  _

Dragnarik released a low sound of assent. “Yes. That is it.” He moved easily through the woodlands. Robert traced his movement mentally. ‘ _ Measured, confident, and smooth.’  _ Approval reluctantly built. ‘ _ Seems a proper fighter...for a heathen.’  _ The giant man slowed and crouched beside a tree. One hand scratched his beard. “Tell me...what do you see in that clearing?”

Robert stopped beside him and scrutinized the indicated terrain. “I...looks an awful lot like a clearing.” He scrunched his eyes and shook his head. “What, ya see a scary squirrel?” Levity lightened the prodding joke. 

Dragnarik growled, low and quiet. “No. An ambush.” He slowly pointed one figure out. “See? Near the trees.” He lowered his hand. “What is different about the bushes there?”

Robert huffed and licked his lips. His eyes strained against the rainy evening. “It...jus’ looks like bushes.” Hesitation took his tongue. “...Really...thick...bushes…” He glanced around. “...Much thicker bushes.” 

Dragnarik spared a small grin. “Yes. They moved the underbrush from nearby to cover themselves.” He inclined his head. “And see the path? Recent tracks.” His finger pointed far off. “And there...that fence...to head off our retreat.”

Robert blinked and worked his jaw. “Uh...Ah...aye.” His sweat ran suddenly cold. ‘ _ And blast it, I would’a ran right inta it…’  _ He shook the troublesome thought away. “Aye. What’s our plan then?”

Dragnarik looked him over. “We cannot stalk...so we avoid it.” He grinned wolfishly. “Or we spring it.”

Robert choked the grip on his mace. A firm nod passed between them. “Well, then. Let’s us give  _ them _ a suprise, eh?”

“Yes.” Dragnarik rose and strode out. His massive shoulders rolled. His balance shifted forward and his eyes sharpened. Gentle gusts tousled his slick hair. ‘ _...Blasted man looks like a wolf…’  _ Robert shuddered and followed a step behind and on his left. The pair entered the clearing, movements assured and unworried. Robert cast his eyes around the surrounding brush. ‘ _ Still don’t see nothin…’  _ Dragnarik whispered. “Three...two…”

A horrible howl rent the air. The living dead erupted from the still land. At least ten shambling corpses burst forth. Robert grinned savagely and tucked behind his shield. The burning light of punishment lit his limbs. He stepped aside and swung his mace. Steel slammed the nearest rotting jaw. Burning chunks fell to the earth. Robert stepped forward and slammed his shield’s edge against a zombie's throat. Horrible gurgling moans followed it down. 

Rotted claws scratched his armor. Weathered limbs seized his hale form and tugged violently. A sharp grimace vented his anger. Robert yanked himself back. The rotten bodies followed, raking bony talons ineffectually against him. Fetid breath and rotting flesh filled his senses. Anger froze to panic. Robert strained and grunted, hurling several bodies away. Heavy weights pressed against him, clawing and groaning. Training finally reasserted itself. Robert fell to his knees and pulled in. His teeth grit. Power channeled from the well within. Tremendous light filled his lungs. Tears burned his eyes. Three minutes of suffocation slammed his mind in a single moment. His muscles strained and surged. He roared his command. “Burn!” A brilliant flash illuminated the woods. Searing light exploded from him, knocking the zombie’s burning bodies away. 

Robert fell forward, panting and gasping. Cold air cooled his ravaged lungs. He pressed himself up and doubled back over. Hacking coughs expelled painful phlegm, splattering over the inside of his helmet. A strong hand gripped his shoulder and pulled him up. Dragnarik firmly turned him and met his eyes. The old warrior stared intently for a brief moment and nodded. Not uttering a sound, he pivoted and charged a zombie. Robert groaned and scooped up his mace. He snapped himself back up and tucked behind his shield. The attacking zombie lay on the ground, head cleaved in twain. Dragnarik stood several strides away, colossal free hand grasped about a zombie's neck. Steel flashed. Rotten brain matter splattered the woods. A shape surged from the woodline. Robert turned with the old warrior. Dragnarik’s axe severed the air, slamming home in the figure’s back. 

Robert blinked.  _ ‘...what in the burning hells…’  _ The remaining dead crumbled to the floor. Dragnarik retained his stance for a breath before relaxing. The old warrior grunted and rolled his shoulder. “...Damn.” He spoke softly again. “Pulled a muscle. Been idle too long…” His grizzled head shook and he pointed ahead. “We should keep moving.”

Robert nodded and followed the giant’s steps. “Ah! Right!” He cast a swift glance back. Five corpses lay burned by his flame, and ten lay in brutal heaps. ‘ _ He put down twice as much as me? What?...’  _ He shook his head and furrowed his brows. ‘ _ How’d he move so fast? He...I…’ _ Robert sighed and removed his helmet, swiftly cleaning the spittle. Reassuring clicks locked it back in place. 

Dragnarik nodded and turned his head, glancing over the woodlands. “Hmm. I do not think they will have set another ambush.” He stooped down and tugged his hatchet from the corpse. Robert shook his head. ‘ _ Right! I should bless the bodies.’  _ The old warrior continued on. “In fact...I think he was more guard than assassin.”

Robert jogged to him and pat his shoulder. A stormy eye regarded him. “I’m gonna bless the bodies.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Keep ‘em safe from more darkness, least.”

The flinty eye softened. “That… Is kind.” Dragnarik turned back, eyeing the woods. “Do it. I will stand watch.”

Robert nodded thankfully and trot back to the bodies. Setting his mace down, he withdrew his necklace and gripped it tight. He hesitantly scanned the area. ‘ _ Need to keep movin’...not enough time…’  _ His knees pressed into the muddy soil and his head bowed. ‘ _ Heavenly Light of Zakarum, benevelonent protector of man, take these lost into your embrace.’  _ A vibrant surge warmed his heart beyond comfort. ‘ _ Hold them, save them, and grant them peace.’  _ He exhaled the burning energy, imbuing the final word. ‘ _ Amen.’  _

A gentle breeze of golden wind brushed over the clearing. Profound peace eased his mind, and then faded. Robert coughed softly and lifted his helmet.  _ ‘Damn, blast it. Wearin’ my throat awful thin…’ _ His fingers gingerly massaged the abused tissue. The cool, wet air eased his pain. ‘ _ Thank Akarat it’s rainin’, though.’  _ He stood and clapped his helmet down. Dragnarik looked back and exchanged a nod. ‘ _ All waxed up, it's not’sa bad.’  _ The two men set back into the woods, alert and ready. 

An oppressive fog built in the woods. Haunting calls echoed from the distance. Robert shook his head and gripped his hammer tighter. ‘ _ Now now, don’t be gettin’ spooked.’  _ He smirked. ‘ _ Don’t wanna stain mother’s name with cowardice. An’...’  _ His mind stilled and looked within.  _ Deep sparks of vital power, resting and dormant. ‘Still feel the strength of Valor. Don’t wanna break those laws then.’  _ A soft chuckle irritated his throat. ‘ _ Right bloody useful, they is.’ _

Robert paused and looked over the hill before them. Sadness settled uneasily over him.  _ ‘So much...destruction…’  _ The hollowed remnants of a once thriving townstead haunted the hilltop. Rotten timbers lay scattered and broken in the weathered streets. Old bones peered emptily through the abandoned alleys. A mourning shroud of fog concealed the edges of the rubble, and the rain washed out the flickering spark of hope. ‘ _ Something is...dreadfully wrong here…’  _ Robert shivered and straightened his spine. ‘ _ Face the darkness blade in hand…’  _ The two moved on, casting their gazes through the ruined village.

Laws of Valor echoing through his mind, Robert observed the ruins. ‘ _ These were homes, once…’  _ He reached out and rubbed a rotted beam. Water soaked splinters fell away. ‘ _...What foulness did this?’  _ Determination anchored his heart. ‘ _ I  _ will  _ find it, and bring it ta justice.’  _ They circled around an overgrown fountain. ‘ _ Whatever it is...these folks won't be without justice...I swear it.’  _

A heavy palm gripped his shoulder. “Kasalis.” He turned his gaze, following the man’s pointed finger. Robert’s eyes widened. Further atop the hill an old cathedral sat. Once resplendent architecture lay half upon the ground, dilapidated in accord with the dead town below. A tremendous hole gaped in the ceiling, and the wooden doors held surprisingly fast. Two figures stood motionless beside the door. Rain soaked through the silent bones, rusted iron clasped tight in dead hands. Deadly premonition hung heavy. Dragnarik hummed gentle and scratched his bearded chin. “If those are any sign, we have indeed found their lair.”

Robert grit his teeth and nodded. “Aye...so...only real question then…” He rolled his shoulders and popped his neck. “...Is: are we going in, or not?”

A short rumble of laughter escaped the old warrior’s lips. “We came here to end them.” Humor glint in his eye. “That would be hard to do from outside.”

Robert chuckled and shook his head. “Aye, your right ‘bout that!” He spun his mace restlessly and bounced on his toes, working warmth back through his body. “So, what’s tha plan? Count ta three an’ charge?”

Dragnarik smirked and walked forward. “Three.” He said gravely. His body fell in an easy stance.

Robert blinked and opened his mouth to reply. ‘ _ I...that smarmy lil’...’  _ He snapped his jaw shut. Shaking his head, he trot up to Dragnarik and approached the ruin. 

Old rattling bones jerked to life and marched steadily toward them. Dragnarik growled and lunged. Steel rent the air and shattered the shambling form. Robert dashed alongside him. His heavy mace descended. Bones slammed the earth. Dragnarik nodded and gripped the door’s handle. His sharp eyes met Robert’s. Robert closed his eyes and channeled the light of punishment. Power flooded his veins and snapped his eyes open. A nod passed between them. Dragnarik yanked the ancient door ajar. Ten skeletal figures turned and strode at them.

Robert howled a warcry and charged forward. His boots hammered the floor. His shield swung, casting his momentum into the foremost dead. Burning bones littered the floor. A massive form darted alongside him. Clattering bones attested his companions might. ‘ _ He’s right strong...so…’  _ Robert tucked his shield and channeled a surge of power. Pain lanced his eyes. Furious fire roared. He planted his foot and shoved the power out. A brilliant flash parted the sky. The skeletons stopped mid stride and staggered back. Golden flames erupted in their empty eye sockets. Smoke joined the evening fog. Robert crouched and rapidly blinked the pain from his eyes. Bones scattered. A massive being charged. Robert stood and hunkered behind his shield. Sparkling sight returned to him. The old warrior twined around a blind strike and slammed his fist into the fiend’s skull. Bone shattered and fell. His axe swung and slammed the final skeleton’s remains down.

Robert grinned and stretched his muscle. “Nice work there!” His hammer pointed to the smoking skulls. “Pretty clever trick, huh?”

Dragnarik smiled and nodded. “Yes. How often do you believe you could do that?”

Robert turned and glanced around the room. “Oh...least a...few...more…” His words trailed off. Old beams and stone pillars stood, supporting the ancient building. A heavily dulled and frayed carpet stretched under their feet. Rickety pews dotted the room. Old cloisters and confessional rooms turned away. Robert stared at the back of the ruin. Fresh rubble decorated the interior, emerging from the ceiling hole. The hole extended far, dragging half of the surrounding walls down and into the earth. Where once stood a podium and gentle motifs, a ravine opened in the earth. Deep schorches etched the stone. Robert blanched. ‘ _ What...what happened here?’ _

Dragnarik spoke softly. “I think we have found where the star fell.” Robert nodded dimly. “Come. Let us investigate.” The big man walked cautiously forward.

Robert flinched and snapped himself into motion. His shield pulled over his body and he gripped his mace tight.  _ ‘Akarat preserve me…’  _ The pair moved forward, cusping the ravine. Robert peered over. A sturdy ladder struck down, lodged firmly against the broken wall. Ancient masonry reflected torchlight. A passage stretched left and right, bending out of sight. Sitting directly below them rested a hefty stone table. Robert hissed and pulled back. “So…” He glanced nervously around. “...We...we, Uh, goin’ down?”

Dragnarik nodded and turned, descending along the ladder. Robert sighed and followed suit. His heels touched firm stone and he turned about. Heavy doors hemmed the room in. Several bookcases filled with dusty tomes and scrolls hunkered against the walls. Dragnarik walked forward, cautiously approaching the right door. He set his shoulder and glanced back. Robert readied himself and drew forth divine power. A nod passed between them. The old warrior pushed the heavy door open. Another long passageway stretched forward. Every three paces the hallway separated, forming small alcoves of tombs and coffins.

Dragnarik pulled back and gazed down the hallway. “Hmm...I see no one.” He turned and pointed. “Go down the other hallway. I will search this one.” The old warrior marched forward, axe gripped and ready. “We will met in an hour, if not sooner.”

Robert nodded and turned. “Aye. I’ll see what’s this way.” He approached the door and pushed it open. A similar hallway stretched before him. A deep breath steadied him. ‘ _ Right. Jus’ marchin’ through a tomb...nothin’ serious…’  _ Heavy treads echoed down the chamber. Robert slowed and glanced down each alcove. A sharp left appeared four sections along. Robert squinted. A figure stood in the hallway, a great maul gripped in devilish fingers. Fear blanched him. ‘ _ That’s…’ _ The creature bellowed and charged. ‘ _ The same demon that…’  _ Its hateful eyes glared over the riveted muzzle. ‘ _ That beat me…’  _ Robert stepped back and raised his shield. 

Bone shattering force slammed his shield. Robert cried out and steeled himself. The demon’s maul scraped the ground. Vile flesh strained, hefting it back. Robert lunged forth, hammer arcing wide. Steel struck hell-forged iron, and the demon reeled back. Flame licked the creature's face. Robert grit his teeth and raised his broken shield arm. The demon released a bone chilling growl and gripped its maul tightly. Their eyes studied each other.  _ ‘It’s angry...close the gap. Get it swing first.’  _ Robert stepped forward and reared his mace back.

The creature sprung, hammer flashing with startling speed. Iron struck steel. Sparks flashed. Robert screamed and dropped his arm. A cacophony of strange sounds echoed down the hall. Demonic limbs restored against momentum.  _ ‘Arms busted. Drop the shield.’  _ He swiftly unclasped his shield and allowed it to fall. The demon pivoted it’s hips and swung. Robert hurled his shoulder forward.

His shoulder guard struck true, crushing the demon’s chest. An iron bar struck his mace arm. Pain splintered down his arm. Robert channeled fearsome power, imbuing his mace. The armament erupted in blazing light. The demon howled under it’s bloodied muzzled. Anger and fear mingled in its crimson eyes. Robert hauled his weapon above his head, shifting the demons maul over his shoulder. Immense pressure shoved against his neck. A painful cry tore his throat. Robert pivoted his hips and slammed his hammer down. 

Demonic blood splattered the wall, burning swiftly to nothing. The headless body of his foe collapsed. Robert staggered back, gripping his broken arm and gasping.  _ ‘Damned...damned demon filth!’  _ He set his mace down and swiftly strapped his shield over his back.  _ ‘Damn Damn Damn! If I find another one…’  _ He shuddered. ‘ _ Need my arm back, and fast.’  _ A pained breath drew in and blew out. ‘ _ Nurture in your heart compassion and peace…’  _ Heavenly strength faded from his limbs. Blazing heat warmed his heart. Robert gnashed his teeth and marched forward, empowering the Laws of Hope.

The sound echoed down the hallway. Robert paused. ‘ _ Sounds almost like…’  _ Anxiety pulled his mind. ‘ _...A goat?’  _ Panic tickled him. He spurred his feet and jogged down the hall. The sounds grew. Robert grit his teeth and turned.

A metal gate led into another coffin alcove, locked and steady. Robert’s eyes widened. Four small goats trembled in fear, huddling against each other in a corner.  _ ‘No...not goats…’  _ The Khazra children bayyed and whimpered fearfully. Compassion surged, warring under his fear and hate. ‘ _ Khazra...goatmen...evil...but not…’  _ His vision blurred. Breathed drew labored and heavy. ‘ _ Just children...monsters...deserve it...innocent…’ _ Robert shook his head, blood pounding. ‘ _ No...no, no!’  _ He snarled, hammering his mind into submission. ‘ _ They are children...children  _ are not _ guilty for their parents.’  _ He reared back his hammer and flooded it with holy light. ‘ _ They are  _ children. _ They are innocent!’  _ His hammer slammed the lock. Cheap iron shattered. The lambs cried out. Robert stepped back and knelt. Setting his mace aside, he removed his helmet. “Come on now.” The confident kindness of his voice shocked him. “Let’s us get you out of there, huh?” The lambs whimpered and shook. Robert extended his open palm. “Let’s get you home, alright?”

  
The nearest child trembled forward and spoke several beastial words. Robert grinned down his bile and nodded. “I’m here ta help. Come on.” The lambs slowly followed the first, gathering around him. Robert pat the first gently. Abruptly their fear disappeared. Four small forms tackled him and clutched tightly. Warmth and purpose flooded him, drowning his fear and anger. ‘ _ That’s a sign then.’  _ He stood and took up his mace. ‘ _ I’m doin’ the right thing.’  _ A deep breath steadied his lungs. ‘ _ Not a  _ damn  _ thing’s touchin’ ‘em.’  _ The light within his heart surged. Robert blinked and flexed his left arm. ‘ _ Healed already? Damn…’  _ He unslung his shield and marched forward. “Alright, let's get you kids ta safety.” Nervous chatter followed him. ‘ _ Akarat as my witness, they’re gettin’ home safe.’ _


	41. Chapter 41

Robert glared against the deep rain. Tiny bleating mewls steadied his heart. ‘ _ Need to get them home.’  _ He scanned about and crouched down. “Alright. Where’s home, little one?” The Khazra nearest him fidgeted and paused. A trembling hand pointed. Robert followed the finger and nodded. “Let’s get ya on back then, eh?” He stood and marched cautiously forward. The four small lambs shadowed his movement, hands frequently tapping against his armored legs.

Robert pulled his shield before him. His eyes devoured the land. ‘ _ Jus’ you  _ try _ an’ gettem…’  _ Scared whimpers steeled his heart.  _ ‘Heaven above, they’re jus’ children…’  _ Furious wrath burned within. ‘ _ What kind’a fiend would do that!?’  _ Robert shook his head and pressed forward. ‘ _...Don’t matter...need ta keep ‘em safe.’  _ A frantic hand clutched his leg and tugged. Robert dropped down and met the child’s eyes. “What’cha need?” The lamb mewled a soft word and pointed to another lamb. Robert narrowed his eyes and motioned the little one forward. Tremors violently shook the child. Worry bubbled up. “Ya all good, little one?” The child whimpered and hesitantly stepped forward. The young lamb pulled up their tunic, displaying their belly. Robert blanched. A horrid gash marred their tiny chest. Angry red branched away. ‘Monsters _ …’ _

Robert smiled past his roaring hatred and reached to the child. They hesitantly stepped forward and nuzzled their head under his hand. Robert’s heart broke. His shield hand removed his helmet and set it aside. ‘ _ Jus’ kids…’  _ Robert smiled kindly and rubbed their head. The lambs bleat and scampered away. Robert turned on his heel and snarled. An empty road looked back at him. Robert blinked and lowered his weapons. ‘ _ Where’s...what spooked ‘em?’  _ Terrified mewling rose from the lambs. Robert turned back and crouched again. Concern chewed his guts. “Come on now, it’s safe.” Tremors shook the huddled lambs. Robert smiled again and extended his hand. Worried bleats shook them. Robert frowned and retracted his hand. ‘ _ What’s...why…’ _ He stilled himself and extended his hand again. The lambs quieted. Worry stained their sparkling eyes. Their tiny hooves waddled back to him. ‘ _ Is it...is it my smile?’  _ Robert paused and emphasized a question. “Little ones, does this scare you?” He pointed at his smile. Terror flashed over their eyes, swiftly replaced with worry after he dropped his smile. ‘ _ Light above...my smile’s spookin’ ‘em.’ _

A deep breath steadied Robert’s heart. ‘ _ Alright...well, if that's the case…’  _ Steeling his visage he extended his hand to the hurt lamb. The child nervously approached and nuzzled back under his palm. ‘ _ There we go…’ _ Robert channeled forth his power and bowed his head. ‘ _ Akarat, father of light, hear my prayer; Mend this young one’s hurts. Stitch their wounds, and spare their life.’  _ Brilliant light filled his palm. ‘ _ Amen.’ _

Healing energy surged, wrapping the lamb tight. A happy bay shattered his worry. The young lamb pulled away and pat their stomach. Eager joy poured over them, and they tackled his leg. Robert chuckled and hugged them. ‘ _ Oh thank the Light...I didn’t know if it would work…’  _ Doubt tugged his mind. ‘ _ Why would I think that? They’re just children. Jus’...children…’ _ Bayying chatter soothed his heart. The lambs crowded around him and began pointing again. Robert turned his eyes to the woodland. ‘ _ Ah. A’course. Time ta get home.’ _

Robert stood and glanced over the rainy woods. ‘ _ Alright then…’  _ His helmet slid over him and locked in place. He gripped his mace and steadily moved forward. A smirk formed under his steel visage. ‘ _ Ain’t this what I’ve always wanted?’  _ He trained his eyes, alert and ready. ‘ _ Bein’ a big damn hero?’  _ A chuckle rumbled in his heart. ‘ _ Well, s’pose I’m gettin’ the chance.’  _ Shadowy resentment stained him. ‘ _...Jus’ had ta be goats…’  _ Guilt wrestled the bitter thoughts. ‘ _...not like they  _ chose  _ ta be wretched demon spawn….they’s jus’ kids after all…’  _

The hollow woods choked the light of the rainy evening. Robert’s thoughts fell quiet, mind occupied with standing sentinel. Lurking shadows twisted out of sight. Eerie bird calls trailed off. The drone of insects sounded just below the ubiquitous rain. Dark premonition nestled in his mind.  _ ‘Keep on my toes...keep on my toes…’  _ Robert rolled his shoulders. Small puddles of water languidly built in his boots and gloves. ‘ _ My wet toes...s’pose it’s still bound ta happen, even with all this fancy waxin’...’ _

A fork split in the woods, leading three separate directions. Robert paused and allowed the children to look. ‘ _ And...sniff?’  _ He grinned, watching their tiny noses huff and puff.  _ ‘Oh, Akarat’s Teeth. That’s adorable.’  _ Small voices chattered and mewled at each other. Fingers pointed and their ears flapped all about. Robert narrowed his eyes. ‘ _ That…’  _ He peered close, observing their conversation. ‘ _...That looks...intentional?’  _ An agreement seemed to be reached, and all of their ears fell forward. ‘ _ Damnation! It is!’  _ Bafflement stunned him. ‘ _ Huh. Does that mean...use the ears? Not their face?’  _ The apparent leader approached him and chattered, pointing to the left passage. ‘ _ Time ta test, I s’pose…’  _ He pointed down the path. “That way?” He watched their ears intently. Tiny flaps moved forward and the child pointed down the same road. ‘ _ They use their ears. An’ I thought today couldn’t  _ get _ more strange!’  _ He smiled beneath his helmet. The lambs filed in behind him. Robert stretched his neck and moved on.

The sun passed beyond the distant peaks, plunging the land into darkness. The once relieved and happy baying quieted. Their pace slowed, caution rising with the falling sun. Robert licked his lips and shook his head. ‘ _ Somethin’s jus’ not  _ right _ ‘bout this place…’  _ He looked through the heavy gloom. Rain poured freely, drenching the land and suffocating hope. Dark, twisting shadows clung under every bush and tree. Freezing wind, heavy with grim omens, seemed to pierce beyond the flesh, driving deep into the soul. 

Roberts eyes readjusted to the night and he marched onward. The lambs huddled tightly under him, quiet voices fearful and meek. Sorrow stung his heart. ‘ _ Kids are s’posed to be loud an’ happy…’  _ He glanced at his shivering charges. ‘ _ Not...this…’  _ A freezing gale sapped his strength. The lambs mewled and whined. Their tiny forms huddled tight, fur soaked and teeth chattering. ‘ _ Need ta get ‘em home. Soon.’  _ A hand latched onto his wrist and tugged violently. “ _ Ta! Ta!”  _ A squeaky bay called. “ _ Ta!”  _

Robert crouched and met the child’s eyes. “Ta? Somethin’ wrong?”

The child fervently pointed to the trees. “ _ Kavid! Koar a Kavid, Ta!”  _ Robert squinted through them. ‘ _ What’re you…’  _ A shambling figure caught his attention. ‘ _ Ah! So that’s it.’  _ Robert snarled and took up his mace. “Right! Get yurselves a’hind me!” Frightened whimpers laced his heart with iron. ‘ _ Oh, you picked a bad time to try it, boney!’  _ The skeleton seized up and abruptly turned towards him. Old bones rattled in an inexorable approach. Robert shook his head and snorted softly. ‘ _ Walkin’ inta it’s death.’  _ He furrowed his brows and stepped forward.  _ ‘Re-death?’  _ His hammer arced down, shattering sodden bone. Jubilant cheers called up behind him. Robert grinned giddily.  _ ‘Eh. Don’t matter. It’s gone, they're safe.’  _ He flashed his gaze through the woods. ‘ _ All that matters.’ _

The lambs rushed back under his shadow and chattered excitedly. Robert quirked a brow and attempted to listen. ‘ _ There’s that word again... _ ta _ …’  _ He turned them an appraising eye. ‘ _ They’s sayin’ it a whole lot...hmm…’  _ Robert pointed, indicating the pile of bones. “‘Ta’? Is that ‘Ta’?”

Four pairs of curious eyes looked up and followed his finger. The apparent leader pressed their ears back and pointed. “ _ Ad. Koar a Kavid.”  _ It looked back up and paused. Their tiny ears wiggled. “ _ A ayeen Kavid.” _

Robert holstered his mace and rubbed his neck. ‘ _ Sounds like a no…hmm…’ _ He pointed at himself. “Kavid? Am I Kavid too?”

The lamb's little ears pressed back. “ _ Ad! Koar Ta!”  _ The child huffed indignantly. “ _ Koar  _ daapa  _ Ta.”  _ The other children giggled and whispered.

Robert blinked and pointed at his chest. “Me? I’m Ta?” He scrunched his brows and pursed his lips. “Daapa Ta?”

The lamb pressed their ears forth and covered their mouth, stifling bubbling laughter. “ _ Ba! Koar daapa Ta.” _

Robert smirked and nodded. “Yeah, alright, I get’s it.” His finger gently tapped the little one's chest. “Koar? Who are you, little one?”

The lambs ears waggled about. “ _ Ad, dappa Ta!”  _ They puffed out their chest and adopted a proud tone. “ _ Roar Rivini!” _

Robert laughed and poked their healed belly. “Rivini? You’re Rivini?” 

“ _ Ba _ !” The lamb flicked their ears forward. “ _ Roar Rivini. Koar daapa Ta.” _

Robert grinned and scooped up his mace. “Alright, come along…  _ daapa  _ Rivini.” Howls of laughter broke from the other young Khazra. Immediate protests rose from Rivini. Robert shook his head and laughed. ‘ _ Oh light above, this is too sweet.’  _ The children followed him, happy mood restored. ‘ _ I need’a get ‘em back before I get attached!’  _ Sudden melancholy wracked him. ‘ _ Aye. Get ‘em back home. That’s it. That’s all. They’s goats, not people.’  _ Wrenching pain cut his heart. ‘ _ No matter how much they seem’s like it...jus’ goats…’ _ Cold seeped in his chest.’ _ I’ll...i'll keep tellin’ myself that...maybe i'll believe it…’ _

Gentle wind stirred the rainy air, sapping heat away. Robert shivered and glanced down. ‘ _ They’s gettin’ right cold…’  _ Worry ate through him. He chewed his lip and looked around the woodlands. ‘ _ Should I set a camp? How close am I to their home?’  _ Robert stepped forward, pausing mid-stride. ‘ _ This might be bad...I don’t know how much longer they can go…’ _ Indecision wracked him. ‘ _ Light Above...I...I don’t know…’ _ He knelt down and soft softly. “Rivini…” The young Khazra peered up at him. Robert pursed his lips and pointed away. “How far is home?”

Rivini’s ears perked. She spoke a small stream of words. Robert frowned and shook his head. ‘ _ No...I can’t understand her...too complicated…’ _ Cold rain poured over them. All five figures shivered and looked nervously around. ‘ _ Damnation...damn, damn!’  _ His hands pat his pouches. He released a small growl. ‘ _ Don’t have supplies. Guess that solves it really.’  _ Agonizing worry seized up his limbs. ‘ _ Damn...Light above... I hope I’m makin’ the right choice…’ _

Robert stood and marched on. Tiny hooves followed him. Steely resolve hardened his heart and spurred him onward. “Come on...we need ta get you all home.” His muscles twitched and cramped, painful tremors shooting through his body. Robert grit his teeth and shook his head slightly. ‘ _ If I’m hurtin’, how bad must  _ they  _ be hurtin!?’  _ He snarled quietly. ‘ _ No. No excuse. Keep on goin’ on. All that’s ta be done.’ _

__ The haunting sounds of the night shrouded woods chilled his spirit alongside his body. Harsh burning built under his skin, muscles overtaxed and frigid. ‘ _ Soon enough...soon enough...I’ll get ‘em home. I’ll get ‘em home.’  _ He stopped and glanced back over the young ones. ‘ _ Still don’t see nothin…’  _ A heavy form crashed into him.

Robert swore and fell back. A massive impact slammed his helmet. Robert winced and pulled his arms under the snarling creature. A cacophony of violent Khazra words sounded from the lambs. Strong limbs pinned him down. Another sharp slam jarred his senses. Distressed wails reached him. ‘ _ No, no! I’m not lettin’ them down!’  _ Searing strength erupted in his limbs. Robert surged upward, grappling the creature's head. A surprised grunt issued from the creature. Golden flames burned over his palms, singeing fur and flesh. The children’s howls intensified. Holy fury burned his heart. Robert roared and threw the creature off him. A pained Yelp accompanied a thumping impact. Robert stood unsteadily and looked back to the lambs. ‘ _ Good. Safe. Just worried.’  _ His head snapped back to the creature.

A dangerous looking Khazra staggered to its hooves. Robert widened his eyes. ‘ _ Ah, shite.’  _ The Khazra glared at him, flames sputtering out over strange runes upon his skin. A long spear swung easily in his strong grip, and his oblong horns swayed angrily. A blue and yellow pattern of paint covered its shorter left horn. The warrior stepped forward. Robert sputtered and held his hand up. “Hold on now! I’m friendly, ya damn animal!”

The Khazra paused and looked over the children. His ears pressed high and back. Rivini ran out, gripping his leg and speaking rapidly. Profound confusion crossed the warrior’s brow. Rivini finished her statement and pointed firmly at Robert. She spoke a word, practically bellowing. The Khazra blinked and stepped back. 

Robert sighed heavily and laid down his hammer, holding his open palm high. “See? She’s tellin’ ya the truth.” He shook his head and grit his teeth. “Don’t ya go smackin’ me fur doin’ a good deed.” The other three lambs filed around him and trot over to the adult Khazra. “Makes a fella feel right unappreciated.” Uneasy tension simmered in the air. ‘ _ I damn well  _ hope _ she’s sayin’ I’m helpin…’  _ More young Khazra voices joined Rivini, fear and desperation shaking them. Robert licked his lips and stretched his body. ‘ _ Rotten little bugger’s  _ better _ be sayin’ I helped ‘em.’  _ He smirked under his helmet, eyes trained on the adult’s deadly spear. ‘ _ Wouldn’t wanna ‘ave ta rough up daddy.’  _ Uncomfortable worry sprung up. ‘ _ Wait...Their horns...somethin’...’ _ His eyes widened and he gripped his mace tight. ‘ _ That’s not the right color.’  _ Angry fear burned in his heart. His eyes sharpened and studied them closely. ‘ _ They...they seem ta notice…’  _ Robert tensed himself and brought his shield before him. ‘ _ I’ll not let a kidnapper take ‘em.’  _ Rivini pointed, indicating the adult’s horn. A hesitant question left her lips. Swift khazra words filled the wood. Gestures pointed off and the adult softened his voice. He gestured at the children, speaking soft and encouraging words. His finger pointed at Rivini, and he spoke her name and several other words. Robert exhaled, tension abandoning him. ‘ _ Oh thank Akarat...he knows ‘em.’  _ The lamb’s worry died down and they huddled tightly under the adult. Watchful goat eyes locked back on Robert.

Chilling rain seeped under metal and hide. Robert shivered and clenched his teeth. ‘ _ Well? Make your decision, goaty…’  _ His fingers tightened. Robert sighed, relaxing his grip. ‘ _ Come on...I brought your kids back to ya...Take ‘em home and warm ‘em up.’  _ He pursed his lips and glanced over the rainy woods. ‘ _ Don’t make me fight ya...don’t make me fight ya…’ _ The adult lowered his spear. His ears pressed back and he raised a hand. Several guttural words left his mouth. His hand clasped over his heart and he pressed his ears forth. Robert sagged, relief draining his strength. ‘ _ Ah, thank tha’ light.’  _ The adult Khazra crouched and pulled the lambs close. Relief and joy choked his strange words. Younger limbs wrapped around him. The older Khazra stood, hefting the four lambs easily. Robert blinked and whistled softly. ‘ _ Damn...sa’ tha’s why he hurt sa bad.’  _ A chuckle loosened his lungs. ‘ _ Bloody rotter’s a brute.’  _ The adult inclined his body and turned, sprinting into the rainy woods. Faint calls reached back over the adult, sounding nerely like farewells.

Robert chewed his lip. ‘ _ Er...well...I s’pose that’s that…’  _ He shifted his feet and dug his heel. ‘ _ Can’t say I’m sad they're gettin’ home safe.’  _ He sniffed and rubbed his neck. ‘ _...But...did he have ta find ‘em so soon?...’  _ His feet spurred on, trudging through the muddy soil. ‘ _ I...I was startin’ ta like ‘em…’  _ Robert retraced his steps. Watchful and melancholy, he returned to the ruined cathedral uneventfully. 

Robert shook himself and entered the ruin. Eerie silence met his strides. ‘ _ Again...that sense’a somethin’ not bein’ right.’  _ A deep breath steadied his fluttering heart. Robert narrowed his eyes and walked forward. ‘ _ Somethin’s jus’  _ not  _ right…’  _ Heavy scratching cough his attention. Robert hunkered down and raised his shield. ‘ _ A’right...come an’ get me ya.’  _ He gripped his mace tightly and readied his body. ‘ _ Demon, cultist, or dead, you’ll not find me weak’n wantin’...’  _ A massive shape hauled itself over the cusp of the hole. Robert blinked. “Dragnarik?”

The elder warrior turned his head up and met his eyes. “Yes.” He straightened his spine and walked forward. Robert’s eyes widened, trailing over the old man’s chest. Fresh and angry wounds dot his scarred hide, and burning patches of sizzling black marred his flesh. “Come. We must return to the others.” He let out a pained grunt and rolled his shoulder. Blood pattered behind him. “There is more here than I thought. We must speak to the others.” The warrior marched past him.

Robert sputtered and spurred his feet. “Bleedin’ hells, man!” He trot alongside the giant. “You’re wounded bad!”

Dragnarik nodded. “I know.” His stride moved forward unabated. 

“Well...let me patch ya up then!” Robert holstered his mace. “Tie a bandage or somethin’!”

“I will live.” The old warrior’s gravelly tone called back. “We must return to town. I will bind my wounds there.” He motioned, beckoning Robert on. “Come.”

  
Robert sighed and followed. “You're worse’n my mother.” Dragnarik grunted. Robert shook his head and jogged along. ‘ _ Only by a little, though…’ _


	42. Chapter 42

Tagaan thundered through the rain soaked woods. The four lambs mewled and chattered, voicing their discomfort. Tagaan wiggled his ears and spoke, voice tired but strong. “Hush now, lambs. Better this than you catch sick.”

Rivini piped up, defiant and confrontational. “No! I’d rather sniffle!” She clenched her palms tightly, gripping on Tagaan’s shoulder. “I’m a chieftain’s daughter! I wanna walk!” 

Tagaan huffed and nudged her, turning a corner and sprinting on. “And I am a chieftain’s son, and I say you will not!” Tiny mumbled arguments fell beneath the wind. “Oh come now, we will be back soon.” Rivini huffed and the several giggles escaped the other children. Happy relief warmed his heart. ‘ _ A good thing they were saved...children should not be harmed.’  _ He ran on, powerful body beginning to chill under the relentless rain. ‘ _...That human...why would he save the lambs?’  _ Tagaan weaved between trees and bushes, vision sharp and clear despite the darkness. ‘ _ I would more expect him to butcher the younglings, and revel in their spilt blood!’  _ Guilt slowed his thoughts. ‘ _...No...I am being uncharitable...Humans love their kin deeply. Perhaps he sensed some connection with the children, and acted on it?’  _ Tagaan huffed and flicked his ears back. ‘ _...Or...perhaps humans are actually capable of goodness?’  _ A simple and obvious idea slammed him. ‘ _ Wait...perhaps they know something...at the least  _ how _ he saved them. That could give a clue why…’  _ Tagaan cleared his throat and spoke, breath broken and intermittent. “Little ones, what happened? How did that human rescue you?” 

Rivini mumbled and tucked her snout in Tagaan’s arm. “We...we were playing…” A deep breath filled her tiny lungs. She poked her head up and spoke clearly. “We were playing. We played tag, and got tooked up by the bad men.” Shivers shook her spine. “We got put in a stone box, and a demon stood outside.”

Tension bubbled in Tagaan. He pressed his ears back. “A demon? What kind of demon?” 

Rivini nuzzled into his fur. “A big blue one. It had lots of metal on it, and it had a big club.” Fear wracked Tagaan’s mind. ‘ _ That...that truly sounds like a demon.’  _ Rivini’s voice piped back up, becoming chipper again. “But then Uncle beat it up! He smacked it and it died!”

Tagaan slowed and looked around. ‘ _...Hmm...this way, I think…’  _ He spurred himself on. “Uncle...you mean the human, correct?”

Rivini’s ears flicked forward. “Yeah. He beat the demon and saved us.” She shivered and hunched deeper into his fur. “Uncle’s nice. He pat my head and fixed my tummy.”

Tagaan’s heart lurched. “Your stomach? What was wrong? He fixed you?”

Rivini’s voice wavered. “Yeah…”

Another voice piped in. “Yeah! Uncle pat her head, and she got glowy!” The young boy pulled himself higher, speaking loud and boisterous. “He made the hole go away, and then smashed a demon!”

“Another demon? What kind?” Tagaan’s breath rasped. Burning ache built under his hide. 

The lamb crested Tagaan’s shoulder and spoke directly in his ear. “A boney one. It looked all dead and boney.”

_ ‘Ah, a skeleton. Still…’  _ Tagaan tucked his ears and tightened his jaw. ‘ _ Nothing serious. But still…’  _ His mind sifted through the memory of their brief encounter.  _ Elation at seeing the lambs. Ambushing their apparent captor. A decisive blow warded by steel. Searing flame igniting over his face. Horrible strength hurling him away. _ Tagaan rumbled thoughtfully. ‘ _ Could he have...would he have...bested me?’  _ He pressed his ears back and forced his legs to swifter movement. ‘ _ Don’t think about it...don’t think about it…’ _ The lambs continued chattering, whimpers and mumbles overtaking their enthusiasm. Tagaan steeled his heart and pressed onward. ‘ _ Don’t think about it. I have more important things…’  _ A sad whimper wracked his heart. ‘Much  _ more important things, to worry about.’  _

Tagaan breathed in and out. Mounting pain built. He grit his teeth and pressed on. The chill night fell before them. Shapes and creatures darted in the far shadows, and the ever present rain dulled his senses. Abruptly the trees gave way to barricaded farmland. Tagaan heaved in relief and knelt down. The lambs dislodged from him and trot forward. Happy chatter gradually built up, following the lambs into their kinlands. Tagaan’s ears fell forward, resting easily down.  _ ‘Good...they are safe...good…’  _ Exhaustion struck him firmly.  _ ‘Been running too long...sleeping too little…’  _ A sharp call split the night. Tagaan shot his gaze up. A wandering moon clan knelt beside the lambs, and called out again. Tagaan relaxed his tense body and leaned on his spear. ‘ _ Family reunited...is there a more beautiful sight?’  _ Several figures emerged from their homes. Eyes widened, joy sounded, and hooves flew. Tagaan’s heart lifted, looking over the assembling group. A familiar form sprinted forth, grabbing up one of the children and hugging him fiercely. Gorinna pushed her forehead firmly into the child’s and muttered soft, broken words.  _ ‘Well...there’s one…’  _ Tagaan scratched his jaw and walked slowly forward. ‘ _ She said she had a brother...I didn’t know he was among the taken…’  _ Uncouth thoughts pulsed through him. ‘ _ Hmm...maybe I could ask for a ‘reward’?’  _ His blood warmed. ‘ _ Offer to guide her little brother in exchange for her hand?’  _ Guilty shame slowly wore the thoughts down. ‘ _...No...no…’  _ He heaved a deep sigh and approached the gathering throng. ‘ _ Grandfather always said “A kindness done for a reward is no kindness at all”...But..’  _ He stiffened his spine and rallied his spirits. ‘ _...but...that doesn’t mean I can’t court her.’  _ He twitched his ears humorously. ‘ _ Just means I can’t cheat.’  _ Fiery determination burned, warming his core. ‘ _ I can win her affections without cheating. I am Tagaan! Son of Nostomo! Such a contest I will win with ease!’  _

The Moon clansmen broke slowly apart, brimming over with gratitude and giddy relief. Thanks and cheers called for him, and he waved the compliments off. Internally he roared in triumph. “It was my pleasure, truly.” He replied with faux humility. The many gathered Khazra departed, returning to their homes and fussing over the returned children. Tagaan looked over the crowd and met Gorinna’s eyes. Warmth flooded him.  _ ‘And there she is…’  _ He puffed himself up and approached her. “I trust all is well, Gorinna?”

Gorinna pressed her ears back sarcastically and bundled her brother tighter. “Now that the dashing hero has returned, yes.” She met his gaze and stared him down. “And I see that glint in your eye…” Her ears flicked back and she turned away. “You’re anything but humble. I’d wager your swimming in the praise…”

The lamb piped up. “Gory, was ‘wager’ mean?” Her brother poked his nose from the heavy swaddles.

Gorinna huffed and tapped his snout. “‘Wager’ means...well…” She flicked her ears and paused. “...it means...It’s a grown up thing. I’ll tell you later, Nadi.”

The lamb huffed and wiggled. “You always say that…” He whined. His eyes met Tagaan’s and he perked up. “Uncle’s gonna come with us?”

Gorinna flashed a glance at Tagaan and readjusted her grip. “That is Tagaan, Nadi. Be polite.” She rubbed her thumbs over him idly. “And yes...he may stay with us.” She met his eyes. “If he would like.”

Tagaan lept in, seizing the opportunity. “I would greatly appreciate your hospitality!” He fell into step alongside them and stood straighter. “I will offer any service I have in exchange for your welcome!”

Gorinna fixed a smouldering eye on him. “ _ Any _ service? Hmm...I will have to remember that…”

Tagaan coughed and waved his hand. “Er...well yes.” He cleared his throat and looked at Nadi. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced, Nadi.” His fist thumped over his heart in a salute. “I am Tagaan, of the Sun clan.”

Nadi giggled and wormed out from his sister’s grasp. “I’m Nadigan! My friends call me Nadi.” He shrunk back, wiggling into Gorinna’s arms. “Are you my friend?” Timid hope tinged his young voice.

Tagaan laughed and wiggled his ears. “Of course, Nadi!” He rubbed the young lamb’s head. “I would be proud to have such a fine young warrior as a friend!” Nadigan laughed and tucked himself tighter into his sister’s embrace. Tagaan’s ears fell easily forward and he sighed gently. ‘ _ A good little one, he seems.’  _

Gorinna bumped his hip mid stride. Tagaan stumbled and caught himself. “There. Our home, just ahead.” She pointed her head towards a small shack. Tagaan furrowed his brows. ‘ _ That? That is their home? That is barely a hut!’  _ Gorinna marched faster, eagerness dripping in her movements. “Let’s get you warmed up and fed, eh Nadi?” Nadigan mumbled a soft agreement.

Tagaan followed behind, looking over their small area. A patch of farmland extended around the hut, muddy and ripe with growth.  _ ‘She did say...she did say she had no male…’  _ Tagaan chewed the air, working through his thoughts. ‘ _ She...a woman should build their home...but if...if no male brought her food…’  _ He swallowed and flicked his ears back. ‘ _ How would she make her home? There would not be enough time…’  _ His steps slowed. He watched the pair enter the small hut nestled in the hill. A cold wind blew gently from the mountaintops. Rain fell in perpetual sheets. Shame burned in Tagaan’s heart.  _ ‘How could I judge her...my father has always given me food...my mother, shelter and clothing…’  _ The ram stood under the cloudy night and turned his muzzle high. ‘ _ What have I  _ had _ to do in the last three years?’ _ His powerful arms folded over themselves. ‘ _ What did I not simply  _ choose _ to do?’ _ Heavy droplets rolled off his steely visage. ‘ _ I...no...I have always had my life given to me…’  _ He breathed heavily and blinked under the sky’s onslaught. ‘ _ I do so _

_ much for my people, but…’  _ His muscles tensed and relaxed. ‘ _...but…if I needed to cloth myself, feed myself, what could I do?’ _

“Tagaan!” Gorinna called out. Tagaan flinched. He glanced back to the small hut. Amusement lit her eyes. “Is the ground really so interesting?” She gestured in her hut. “I’d think it could wait until tomorrow.”

Tagaan wiggled his ears and walked forward. “Oh, no. Simply working through a revelation.” 

Gorinna folded her arms and cocked her hip out. “Oh? Care to share your insight, Tekite?”

“Ha!” He flapped his ears back and waved his hand. “I’m hardly a philosopher. No, it’s just a personal thing.”

Gorinna huffed and glanced aside. “Well fine then. I’ll just let it lie.” Her eyes followed him as he entered. “...Please.” Her voice softened and she gestured gently. “Do make yourself at home. It’s the least I could do for you.”

Tagaan pressed his ears forth and entered the small hut. “I am humbled by your generosity.” His voice resonated with honesty and gravity. “Thank you.”

A short laugh followed him inside. “Sure you are…” She entered behind him and moved to a gathering of baskets. “I’m sure you're just  _ pulsing _ with gratitude…” Her hands deftly opened a basket and withdrew a chunk of corn bread. Her sultry tone dropped and she handed it to her brother. “Here, Nadi. Eat some and go to sleep.” The young lamb flicked his ears and broke a piece of the stiff cake off. Gorinna sank to the ground and sat back. A relieved sigh depleted her lungs. “And hand it to our guest when your done.”

Nadigan chewed a chunk of the bread and flicked his ears forth. “‘Kay.” His small voice mumbled out. Tagaan’s heart warmed. ‘ _ A good little one indeed.’  _

Gorinna leaned back, relaxing against the wall of her home. Tagaan glanced from the corner of his eye. ‘ _ She is strong…’  _ His eyes trailed up and down her athletic body.  _ ‘She works hard, and keeps her brother fed.’  _ He looked back to her face. Her eyes bored into his, heavy and intense. “...Did you see something interesting?” She nerely whispered. 

Tagaan swallowed down the hot lump forming in his throat and pressed his ears forth. “Yes...I did.” His blood thundered. Heat built throughout his body. “The most…’interesting’...thing I have ever seen.”

Gorinna turned her head and looked away. Her ears tucked bashfully. “...That is sweet of you to say.” Her palms rubbed her arms. “But I’m sure you lie. More beautiful women live even nearby.” A hand reached hesitantly to her horns. “...They are too bulky, don’t you think? Too short...too dull…”

Tagaan huffed and folded his arms. “The son of Nostomo does not lie.” He softened his tone and spoke from his heart. “I mean every word I say.” His form shifted, kneeling before her. “You are a marvelous creature, Gorinna. You are beautiful, you are strong, you are…” A hand pushed his arm. Tagaan lifted the appendage and glanced down. Nadigan offered the cornbread and waddled from the room. A muttered farewell trailed behind him. Tagaan observed the bread a moment before taking a hefty bite. ‘ _ No where near my sister’s...but then again, she spends so much time perfecting it…’  _ He swallowed the simple food and continued. “And you are dutiful.  _ All _ good qualities for a mate to have.” He indicated her horns. “And your horns? Please. They would rouse my blood any day.”

Gorinna met his eyes and remained silent. “...You speak well, Tagaan. And thank you.” She lowered her tone and allowed herself to relax. “So...a good mate? Tell me, Son of Nostomo, what would make a good mate for  _ you? _ ”

Tagaan inched closer and stared deeply in her eyes. “She would need to be fierce. Someone of will and passion, who could lead my clan beside me.” Gorinna leaned towards him, coyly inspecting her hand. “She would need to be smart, that she could teach my lambs what I could not.” Tagaan leaned forward. Her breath warmed his face. “She would be kind, and diligent. Someone who would never abandon her tasks. Someone who would stand beside me, now and forever.” She turned, muzzle nearly touching his. “...and she would need to be you. My heart would have no other.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “...What say you, Gorinna of the Moon? Would you have me?”

Her hand alighted on his arm. A languid blink stirred Tagaan’s loins. “...You speak  _ very  _ well, Tagaan.” Her voice burned with implication. “But I think I need more... _ persuasion _ …” She trailed off, hand ghosting towards his spirit horn.

“Gorinna…” His voice cracked. Anticipation seared his mind. “Are you sure? Would you be my mate?”

A beautiful and delicate laugh shook her. “Oh Tagaan...you are too sweet. This…” She closed her palm around his spirit horn. “...is my answer.” Tagaan lunged and grabbed her, dragging her body to the floor.


	43. Chapter 43

Robert folded his arms, leaning back and grimacing. “I mean...when ya put it that way…” He shifted, glancing over the assembled group. Dragnarik sat in a nearby chair, eyes closed and wounds bound. Alice stood near the inn’s door. Her demonic eyes watched steadily. Daltyn stood adjacent to Robert, arms folded and scowling. Leah leaned over the bar, posture alert and pensive. “It does sound bad.” Robert shook his head and puffed air. “I mean...crazies and skellies ain’t enough? Gotta have some kind’a cult whatchit goin’ on too?”

Dragnarik rumbled in his chest. “Yes. It does sound bad.” A faint smirk traced his face. “It felt bad as well.”

“Tha bluddy ‘ell’s a  _ cult _ doin’ in tha ol’ cathedral!?” Daltyn snarled and clenched his fists. “Light damned fiends!” Alice murmured a quiet response. Her words fell beneath the angered guard captain. “I say’s we go an’ show ‘em jus’ we think’a that!” His foot tapped impatiently. “Les jus’ rally up tha militia an’ storm it!”

Alice sighed her disappointment and frustration. She raised her voice and spoke clearly. “I appreciate the cavalier attitude, Daltyn, but discretion is an ally, not a foe.” She gestured softly to Dragnarik. “They are able to summon demons…” The old warrior nodded. “...Cast black magics…” Robert grumbled his assent. “...and are supported by the risen dead.” Her arms folded. Her voice softened. “And our strongest fighter was wounded badly. I would love to strike out and annihilate the brutes...but…” She shook her head and sighed. “I also would love for us all to survive. I’ve grown rather fond of you all.” A smirk split her features. “So, in the spirit of keeping you all alive, I must recommend caution.”

“Keep  _ us _ alive, Alice?” Robert frowned and chewed his lip. “How many people you think would be attackin’ ‘em?” 

Alice glanced away, eyes distant in thought. “...Three.” Her eyes snapped back to him. “You, Dragnarik, and Rumford.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “That would leave most of the militia, their leader, and myself to protect the town.” She crossed her heels and leaned against the wall. Her pensive look scanned the room. “...Thoughts?”

Dragnarik rumbled thoughtfully and folded his arms. “...No…” The old warrior opened his eyes and looked to the floor. “I would want eight warriors to accompany me. Three companies of three.” A soft chuckle escaped him. “We do not have that many warriors, so I would wish four to accompany me.”

Alice tutted. “There are only ten militiamen in this town.” She pursed her lips and paused, thoughts visibly churning in her mind. “That includes Rumford...so for you to bring a sortie of five, we would be left with seven to safeguard.” Her eyes glanced back. “And those seven would be our least capable fighters.” Worry creased her brow. “...I do not like that. It feels...overly optimistic.”

Dragnarik shifted and huffed. “We may have no choice.” He scratched a weathered chin and glanced at Daltyn. “I mean no offense, but your warriors are weak. I would need more, or stronger.”

Quiet spread over the room. Robert pursed his lips and frowned. ‘ _ That...that does sound right inconvenient, don’ it?’  _ Shuffles and quiet breaths filled the air. Deep thought creased brows and narrowed eyes. ‘ _ So what, we’s jus’ gonna give it up?’  _ He puffed his cheeks and buzzed his lips. ‘ _ Now that sure don’ sit right! They’s defilen a temple!’  _ He brought his hands together and popped his stiff knuckles. ‘ _ Should be gettin’ in there and scourin’ ‘em all. Can’t jus’ let ‘em…can’t jus’ let ‘em…’  _ He sighed and rubbed his eyes. ‘ _...Not really  _ lettin’ _ ‘em if’n I can’t  _ stop _ ‘em…’  _

Daltyn broke the quiet. “So you says ya need more’r better soldiers, aye?” Dragnarik met his gaze and nodded. “So...so what...what if kept one you tough boys back ‘ere to keep’a watch and sent most’a my boys ta fight?”

Robert shook his head. “No...no I don’t think Rumford is tough enough.” He rubbed his chin. “None’a the others are either.”

“I do believe he was referring to you, Kasalis.” Alice’s humored voice chuckled out. “And I like that idea.” Robert frowned and folded his arms. ‘ _ Me? Stay behind? But...but…’ _ Alice straightened and stretched her back. “I would feel much more comfortable with fewer if you were one of the remaining.”

Dragnarik nodded slowly. “...Yes...I could take a group of nine then.” He leaned forward, placing his weight on his feet. “Four militia, you…” He pointed at Robert. “...and you.” He indicated Alice. “Should be enough to defend.”

Robert worked his jaw silently. A brief moment later he shook his head and leaned forward. “But, I, I just…” He gripped his knees tightly. “Ya’d need me down in there! Need someone who can...who can channel tha light, right?” He glanced around, panic staining his eyes. “You’d need me down there, right!?” Leah shrunk back, nervously watching his explosion.

“No.” Dragnarik shook his head softly. “I need you here.” His eyes narrowed and he steepled his fingers. “I worry for the ability of the militia. If another attack came while we were away, they may well be overrun.” The old warrior leaned back and rubbed his neck. “If we split as Alice said, then both forces will have a spear-point. A powerful fighter to face their champions and lead the attack.” His powerful arms folded again, and he glanced aside. “...And if someone is injured here, you can heal them.”

“Yeah! Yeah I can!” Robert leaned forward. Desperation strained his voice and face. “But people’s bound ta get more injured down there! So  _ that’s  _ where I should be!” He scratched his hair. Impassive grey eyes stared him down. “I mean...I mean...Brother Malachi can heal too! Someone gets hurt an’ he can jus’ fix ‘em right up.” 

Dragnarik nodded. “You are right. But brother Malachi is not a warrior.” He paused and his eyes drifted away. “He could not defend a wounded companion. Think a moment...if someone were wounded, were they likely be?” Stormy orbs fixed back to him. Daltyn glanced around, remaining silent and licking his lips anxiously. Alice watched idly.

Robert chewed his lip and tapped his foot. “I mean...they’d...they’d be smack dab in tha middle’a tha fightin’.” 

“Yes.” The old warrior smirked. “They may be wounded farther away, but it is unlikely.” He opened his palms and looked over the deep lines. “...And yes...this all applies the same to the group I would lead. But…” Razor focus sharpened his eyes. “If my group fell, it would only be us. If your group fell…” His voice trailed off. 

Robert glanced away. “The town...the civilians…” Dragnarik nodded solemnly. “I...yeah I see your point.” A rueful grin spread over his face. “I jus’...I wanted ta be part’a tha fight, ya know?” Leah visibly relaxed. Daltyn chuckled and shook his head.

Dragnarik barked a laugh and shook his head. “Oh...trust me, pup. I know the feeling well.”

Alice cleared her throat. Robert looked over. A smirk crossed her lip and she pushed off the wall. “Well, if the drama is done, I suggest we rest for the night.” She walked deeper in the inn, heels tapping a steady rhythm. “I know that at least  _ I _ am tired.”

Robert rolled his eyes and laughed quietly. Daltyn nodded agreement and muttered a goodnight. The weathered guardsman turned, eyes bearing into the far distance. A full cup of frothy liquid sat before him. His hands rested against the handle. Dragnarik hummed assent. A brief moment passed and the large man stood. “I am going outside.” Robert leaned his head back and quirked a brow. Dragnarik paused. His steely visage softened. A smile spread over his face. “I wish to stargaze. It was a favorite pastime of my wife.” Robert blinked. ‘ _ Wife? Ol’ bugger’s married?’  _ Dragnarik straightened himself. “Do not worry over me. I will sleep outside.” The large man exited the inn, closing the door gently. 

‘ _ Didn’t take him for the married type...S’pose I need’a not make assumptions sa fast.’  _ He trailed his gaze around the simple inn. A small spattering of people milled about the common room. Tankards raised and lips sipped. Muted conversation created a pleasant drone. ‘ _ I recognize a lot’a these folks...the ones I helped out.’  _ Mary, Frankie, and many other displaced locals gathered around the stout tables. ‘ _ Hope they're settlin’ in okay…’  _ Robert paused a moment, rubbing his neck thoughtfully. ‘ _ Speakin’ of…’  _ He cleared his throat and spoke. “Hey Leah…”

Leah blinked and straightened herself. “Yes? You need something?”

“I was jus’ wonderin’...” He dropped his hands, resting them over his knees. “Am I still free ta use that room up there?” He pointed up the staircase. “The one I was mendin’ in?”

Leah smiled and shook her head. “Uh...yeah!” A brilliant grin lit her features. “You come in, save the town and wonder if you can still use a room?” She leaned against the counter. “Of course you can, you silly man.” A wry smile replaced her grin. “And I mean, really, there isn’t bound to be much business during an undead invasion anyway. Not like we’re losing customers.”

Robert huffed and stood, stretching his arms high. “I was just bein’ polite.” He rubbed his eyes and wandered towards the stairs. “Don’t like to assume ‘bout things like that. Not nice to assume.” Her soft laughter followed him up the rickety steps. Robert smiled and entered the small room indicated as his. His eyes tracked over the room. ‘ _ Nice little place here...Not too big. Not too small.’  _ Hearty creaks accompanied his body resting on the bed. He sighed happily, falling back and relishing the simple accommodations. ‘ _ Jus’ the right kind’a room for me…’  _ Drowsiness clawed his eyes. Fatigue slammed down. ‘ _...Jus’...the…’  _ His thoughts trailed off, consumed by dreamless slumber.

A soft knock roused the man from his slumber. Robert blinked awake and heaved himself up. Pressing one palm against his shoulder he stretched his sore muscle.  _ ‘Akarat’s teeth...s’pose shoulder wasn’t fully done yet after all.’  _ Robert stretched his back and lifted his left knee high. He repeated the motion with his right and shook himself. ‘ _ Didn't even take off my boots last night...I have been runnin’ ragged, ain’t I?’  _ A sigh rattled his chest. ‘ _ Mother’d have a proper scolding ready for me…’ _ Weary loneliness tugged at his heart. ‘ _ Damn...I wish she were here…’  _ Another soft rap sounded at the door. Robert shook his head. ‘ _ Right. Dwellin’ in the past again. No time for that.’  _ He buzzed his lips and walked to the door. ‘ _ No time at all…’  _

Robert opened the door. Rubbing his eyes, he spoke. “G’mornin’ to ya.” A sniff and a blink cleared his vision. “Ah! Leah, goodmornin’!” 

Leah chuckled, extending a small tray. The small tankard of frothy mead sloshed nearby a chunk of bread and hard cheese. “Good morning to you too, Kasalis.” Robert stifled a flinch. ‘ _ Not right...still not right.’  _ Her eyes narrowed. “...Kasalis? Are you alright?” She flashed a glance over him. “You look...haggard.”

Robert forced a laugh and accepted the tray. “Oh...I’m jus’ fine!” A twinge pulled his gut. ‘ _ No you’re not...stop lying to her face.’  _ Robert wrenched his eyes from her sharp gaze, focusing intently on the meal. “And thankee for the meal! It looks grand!” 

Leah folded her arms and pursed her lips. “...Yeah. The meal.” She sighed and looked away. Tired hurt filled tinted her soft voice. “...Look, if you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine.” She tapped her foot anxiously. “...But please...don’t lie to me.”

“Ah well…” Robert sighed heavily and fell back on his bed. Mead sloshed over the rim. “Hells! Ah, right, anyway…” He placed the tray over his knees and shook his head. “It’s...jus’ somethin’ personal. Nothin’ ya need to worry ‘bout.” His jaw worked silently. “...Jus’...a ‘me’ problem.”

A short pause rose between them. Leah leaned against the doorframe. Robert fidgeted and took a bite of the soft bread. ‘ _ Ah...Light Above, but that’s good…’  _ Leah spoke quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Robert glanced up, meeting her soft gaze. “Wel…” He dipped his head and heaved a deep breath. “It’s...so it’s…” He rubbed his neck and glanced aside. 

“Take your time.” Leah smiled. “It’s okay.”

Robert cleared his throat and nodded, head still hung low. “...Thanks.” Several quiet moments passed. “It’s…” Anxiety bubbled up. ‘ _ How do I...without  _ saying _ it…’  _ His hand dropped. “I...am missin’ someone.” Leah nodded. “I’m… I’m missin’ her, and tryin’ to live up to her example, I just...I don’t…” He rubbed his temples. “I...:”

Leah sat next to him. She rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Shh...It’s okay.” Her voice sounded hesitantly. “She’s...you’re missing her? She was important to you?”

‘ _ Pick yourself up lad…’  _ Robert straightened his spine and nodded, throat painfully tight. “Aye...she is...she’s right important. Most important person I’ve met.” He sipped his mead. Small tremors shook his arms.

“She sounds lovely, Kasalis.” Hurt seized his heart. “What is she to you? Wife? Lover?” 

Robert chuckled softly, pain falling away. “Oh...no...no no.” He shook his head and grinned. “She’s my mother.” Leah smiled and nodded. “And she is. Best damn woman I’ve ever met, y’know?” He shook his head and laughed. “Can’t imagine there’s many lads who  _ don’t  _ say that ‘bout their mums.”

“Ha!” Leah shook her head and folded her arms. “You might be right there!” She leaned back and met his gaze. “So...missing your mother and trying to live up to her example?” A wide and brilliant smile crossed her face. “I know just how that feels!” She shook her head and leaned against him. “My own mother was a witch, and left when I was very young. Her name was Adria, and I don’t really remember anything else about her.” Robert nodded sympathetically and continued his meal. She shrugged and chuckled. “Not really any memories to live up to, but I have another relative I’d like to emulate.”

Robert chuffed a hearty chuckled. “Ehm-you-late?” He shook his head and sipped his mead. “What is it with you women and talkin’ good?” The empty tray landed settled over the nightstand. “I don’t even know what in the burnin’ Hells that  _ means _ !

“Oh.” Leah shuffled self consciously. “It's...well. I don’t think it’s  _ every _ woman!” She shook her head and laughed away her anxiety. “Anyway,  _ I,  _ have a reason. That relative I was talking about? His name is Deckard Cain, and he’s a renowned scholar.” Robert nodded and pursed his lips. “Like I said, I’ve long desired to live up to his example. So...that meant lots of books and reading.” 

A lump sank in Robert’s heart. “Oh...a...a uh, scholar, huh?” He cleared his throat, coughing several times. Leah rubbed his back, concern flashing over her face. Robert gently brushed her hand off. “Ah, I’m fine. Fine.” He licked his dry lips and shook his head. “I jus’...I didn’t know you could read, is all.”

Leah blinked and folded her arms. “Oh? Well...yes. I’ve never really thought about it.” She tucked a strand of hair from her face and bit her lip. “You can’t?”

“No.” Robert responded curtly. “And I’d like ta leave it at that.”

Leah drew a sharp breath and nodded. She shuffled, shifting herself away. “Right. Okay.” She nodded and looked away. “Anyway...I...I live up to my uncles example. I...know how it feels to be under someone else’s shadow.”

Robert nodded and softened his face. “Aye...aye…” He cleared his throat successfully. “Thank you for the food.” Leah muttered a soft reply. A comfortable quiet filled the room. Several moments passed. Robert pressed his heels against his thighs and pushed himself up. “Anyway. I think I was supposed to be on watch?”

Leah stood and stretched her arms high. A content sigh warmed Robert’s blood. “Yeah. I came by to give you that breakfast and let you know your turn is coming up.” Robert nodded and exited the room. Leah trailed after. “Dragnarik and most of the militia left this morning.” Worry creased her brow. “I’ve been worried about them. Daniels...Rumford…” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “They’re not fighters. And that northman? He seems perfectly capable...but he’s as old as my uncle.” A short, bitter laugh left her lips. “Not to mention that Alice has been standing watch for hours already. You and her are really important to keeping this town safe, you know?” A shiver wracked her. “I...I don’t want to think about what would happen if you and her weren’t here.”

Robert clenched his jaw and nodded. “Don’t you worry about them, ma’am.” Leah stopped and glanced back. Her brow quirked. Robert smiled wide. “The Light will protect us.” Robert continued down the stairs. 

Leah’s steps fell behind him. She spoke softly, almost imperceptibly. “I wish I had faith like that.” Robert stopped and looked down. “It would make things a lot less scary.”

“S’not like that. I’m scared plenty.” He rubbed his shoulder self-consciously. “Jus’...faith keeps me focused, y’know?” He laughed uneasily. “S’ard to sit back when duty calls. Can’t disappoint The Light, or my mum.” A short nod solidified his statement. Leah muttered something indescribable. Robert shook himself and waved over his shoulder. “I’ll be mannin’ the walls. Take care, Leah.”

“You too, Kasalis.” Leah spoke up, waving to him. “Stay safe out there.” A lump clogged his throat. Robert left and strode swifter than needed from the inn. ‘ _ Bleedin’...damned…’ _ Stinging tears burned in his eyes. ‘ _ Why’s today gotta be so damned emotional!?’  _ He buzzed his lips and shook the tears from his eyes. ‘ _ Should be an ironclad juggernaut’a light an’ faith. Unbreakable. Unshakable. Like she said...A man’a faith.’  _ Gentle sunlight warmed his back and head. He rubbed his nose and folded his arms. ‘ _ Faith an’ conviction. Not whimpers and whinin’.’ _

A sigh deleted his lungs. Robert shook his head and dropped his arms. Rolling his shoulders he marched through town. He buzzed his lips and approached the western wall. A familiar silhouette stood upon the study timbers. A bow rested easily in her grip, and a full quiver of sharp arrows lay beside her. Robert grinned and walked up the stairs. “Good morning, Alice!” He stepped up and leaned against the railing near her. “Heard you’ve been up some time now.”

Alice waved minutely. “A pleasant morn to you as well, Kasalis.” A wry grin tugged her lips. “And yes. I have been awake for five hours now.” Robert sputtered and coughed, smacking his chest heartily. Alice laughed softly. “Yes. I require much less sleep than most.” She rolled her head, glancing at him from the corner of her eye. “Of all the many benefits to being a hunter of demons, indefatigability is likely my favorite.”

Robert grunted a long suffering sigh. “Tha bloody hell’s that mean?” Alice blinked and cocked her head. A hiss pushed through his teeth and he shook his head swiftly. “No. No, never mind.” He rubbed his short hair angrily. “Won’t like how ya explain it, I’m sure. Let me guess, ya can read too?”

Alice’s voice softened. A hand rested on his shoulder. “Yes. I can read, Kasalis.” She squeezed gently and dropped her hand. “I was  _ taught _ to read. It is hardly an innate skill. There is no shame in  _ not  _ being taught something.” Shame burned his gut. “I know many honest men and women who cannot read. It is simply a matter of circumstance.” Robert groaned and rubbed his eyes, leaning far over the railing. ‘ _ Now I feel like a bastard…’  _ Alice hummed gently and pressed her palm in small circles over his back. “I do not think less of you. No one here does. Your strength merely rests elsewhere.” She fell quiet, continuing to massage his back. “Would you like me to teach you?”

Robert huffed. “Bloody hell...what’s with you women folks and bein’ so nice!?” He shook his head and laughed. “I swear on my mum, but you all sure can be concerned ‘bout other folks! How in the burning Hells can ya do it!” Bracing himself on the ramp, Robert hung his head. “You should be laughin’ or jeerin’, not offerin’ to teach me.”

A small laugh flowed easily from Alice. “Oh, I suppose it is because us women do not have to go around acting firm and tough and the time.” Robert grunted and allowed himself to enjoy her soothing palm. “I cannot even  _ imagine  _ how much time and energy you men spend posturing.” She continued circling her palm. “I mean, really. You come up here being worried about being able to read? When you can summon those fancy flames in your weapons? And heal the wounded?” She chuckled softly. “You’re a good man, Kasalis. A small bit the fool, but a good and honest man.”

Robert pushed himself and grumbled. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a wreck.” Her hand fell away. A quiet pause stretched between them. The trills of morning birds sounded over the woodlands. Voices and laughter built laboriously behind them while the town woke. Robert folded his arms and leaned against the wooden pillar nearest him. He idly rubbed the stubble growing on his chin. ‘ _ Hmm. Been some time since I shaved. Should prob’ly take care’a that.’  _ Robert cleared his throat politely. “Hey, Alice.” She turned and cocked a brow. “You wouldn’t happen to have a knife on ya, would you?”

A small grin split her face. “Many, actually.” The athletic woman leaned over and stepped her right foot forth. Her hand quested into the lining of her high heeled boot and retrieved a sharpened knife. She twirled the blade and offered him its handle. “What do you need it for?”

Robert accepted the knife and checked its edge. The tip sank in his calloused flesh easily. He whistled and shook his head. “Akarat’s Teeth, Alice. You keep this thing sharp.” He lifted his head and gently scraped the edge along the planes of his face. “And this is why. Gettin’ to bushy.”

Alice laughed fully and shook her head. “Understandable. You see, that is actually one of that knife’s purposes.”

“What?” Robert quirked a brow. “One of its purposes? You run across a lot a men needen’a shave?”

Alice grinned impishly. “Not at all. Women grow bushy as well.”

A pause fell between them. Robert furrowed his brows. ‘ _ What? Women don’t get bushy...unless…’  _ Horror stretched over his face. He dropped the knife while a mighty flush warmed his face. Alice laughed heavily. The knife clattered across the wooden floor. “Feck! Why would you...what…”

Alice scooped up the knife and raised her palms in surrender. “Sorry! I’m sorry. It was simply too good an opportunity to let pass. Here.” Another blade flashed from her other boot. “This one just peels vegetables. Is that acceptable?”

“Bah!” Robert shook his head firmly and grabbed the knife. “Damnation woman! Scared the shite outta me. Don’t go tellin’ jokes like that, I beg ya.” A deep sigh rattled his chest. The new knife raised to position and slowly trimmed his growing hairs. “Tellin’ a lie that cruel…s’not nice.”

“I wasn’t lying, Kasalis.” The blade slipped and cut his flesh. Robert winced and looked away. “I have  _ many _ knives, and  _ many _ things to cut.  _ That _ one needs my sharpest knife.” She shrugged. “So I use my sharpest knife.”

Robert pinched his cut closed. The warmth of Hope woke within him and tugged his flesh closed. “Bloody...bleedin’...and jus’ after I talked ‘bout how  _ nice  _ ya were too!”

Alice fell back and pursed her lips. “...Are you actually offended, Kasalis?”

“Of course I’m offended!” He struck his palms against the wooden railing. “Handin’ me a knife that’s touched…that ya use to...Damnation!” He raised the knife and began trimming his beard again. 

Alice paused and bit her lip. “I’m sorry, then. It is just a knife, and just a part of my body.” She sighed and turned away. “I did not mean to offend you with it.”

Burning guilt, anger, and anxiety surged within him. “Well...Er…” He swallowed down the hot feelings. “...Apology accepted. Let’s move on, eh?” Alice nodded and continued gazing over the woodlands. Robert trimmed more hair. Worry tugged his gut. ‘ _ Now she’s sad...great. Had such a fun time...an’ then I go and ruin it.’  _ He sighed heavily and flicked lost hair away. ‘ _ Gotta be somethin’ I can do to fix this…’  _ He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “Oi, Alice. You mind answering a question?”

“Not at all.” She turned one seething orb towards him. 

Robert hissed and shook his head. ‘ _ S’just what her eyes look like...not a demon...not a demon…’  _ The knife continued peeling away his overgrown hairs. “So...mind sharin’ why you wear those heels? I mean...you’re in combat plenty right?” She nodded, a smirk stretched over her pretty features. “So why you wearin’ those? Seems a mit bit silly.”

Alice shook her head and set her bow aside. “You are right. In a fight, or for any practical reason, they are...unfavorable.” A wry grin split her features and she folded her arms. “...I’ll tell you why, if you promise not to panic.” Robert narrowed his eyes and nodded. ‘ _ What are you up to…’  _ Alice smiled and inspected her nails. “They make my ass look great.”

Robert paused. The knife sunk in his flesh again. “Pardon?” The sharp pain fell beneath his notice.

Alice smirked and pushed her rump out. “My ass.” She languidly stretched herself high. “They make my ass look great. That’s why I wear them.” 

“I...why…” Robert lowered his hands and looked studiously away. Burning, warm blooded thoughts followed her easy movements. “Now why in the burning hells would you do that!?”

Alice’s voice reached over his shoulders. “I  _ like _ to look good. I  _ like _ being sexy, Kasalis.” A small chuckle eased the tension. “And, you did promise not to panic, if I recall.”

Robert clenched his jaw tight. ‘ _ She’s right. I did. I’m a man’a my word.’  _ He shook his head and drew deep, steady breaths. “You’re...you’re right. I promised.” A soft laugh trilled from her, soothing his knotted stomach. “Jus’ sorry I asked…”

“Why?” Alice cocked her head. “You act so shy, I’d think you’ve never been with…” She hissed a sharp breath. Robert’s ears burned shamefully. “Ah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to prod something so tender.”

Robert tensed and relaxed his neck. Muscles knotted painfully. “Jus’ as long you promise not’a offer an  _ help _ with that too.”

“Oh?” Her voice dipped. She stepped forward, heels clacking. A throaty rumble followed her. She pulled up near him and whispered. “Am I  _ that _ unbecoming? Do I turn your stomach, holy man?” Her hot breath set raging fires under his skin. “Does this  _ evil _ …” One hand rested on his shoulder. “... _ demonic… _ ” Her lips ghosted by his ear. “...hunter, repulse you?”

Robert flinched back, tucking his chin and turning away. “Ye...no. No! Not…” His blood thundered, drawing his thoughts. “You’re...just...no…” He sucked a heavy breath and shook his head. “Promise! I made a promise! Not to!” His hands feverishly rubbed his arms. 

Alice hissed and drew back. “Ah, that would explain...I’m sorry.” She straightened her spine and turned. “I didn’t know you were celibate. I won’t pry.”

Robert stared across the woodlands, willing his arousal to fade. “S’all right. S’all right.” He shook his head and desperately wrangled control of his breath. “Not celibate though. Chaste.”

An understanding murmur trailed over the morning. “I see. Waiting for the right one, then?” Robert nodded firmly. “I’m sorry, then. I won’t tease you about it any more, I promise.” 

Robert swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, folding his arms and leaning over the railing. “Thanks...thank you.” He rubbed his hair fiercely. “Thanks. Thank you…” Another lump formed in his throat, and warm thoughts surged through him. “I’m...I’m gonna...guard. Guard here.” He nodded and looked away.

Alice chuckled. “I to, will guard. It  _ is  _ why we are out here, after all.” Her voice dipped lower. “...we will be doing a great deal of it…”

  
Robert grunted and licked his lips. His mind trailed back through his recent memories again and again. He shook his head firmly and leaned on the railing. “Right. Guarding. Lookout. Time to wait an’ watch.” Sharp and shallow breaths broke his concentration. “Wait...an’ watch...wait an’ watch…” He shook his head and groaned. ‘ _ This is gonna be a long shift…’ _


	44. Chapter 44

Tagaan woke and shifted. A heavy shape atop him mumbled. Fear seized his heart, replaced swiftly by remembrance. He sighed happily and enfolded Gorinna. ‘ _ Victory…’ _ Her scent, a mixture of clean smoke and sun-kissed hide, filled his snout. ‘ _ A victory worthy of the ancients.’ _ Tagaan rolled himself, placing Gorinna on her bedding. He dug his snout into her collar and spoke softly. “Gorinna...Gorinna, get up.” 

A soft chuckle shook the body beneath him. “I  _ am _ up, silly man.” Gorinna wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tugged him close. “You woke me when you flinched.” Unease claimed her quiet voice. “I worried for a moment...that perhaps you regret…”

Tagaan pressed down on her, digging his forehead into hers. “ _ Never _ .” He growled. A soft laugh escaped him. “I'm not used to waking up... _ accompanied, _ is all.”

“Good…” She whispered, gazing into his eyes. “I was...good.” 

Tagaan pushed himself up and stretched his sore limbs. ‘ _ Blessed Ancestors, I’ve never felt such a good ache!’  _ A content sigh rattled his chest. Gorinna leaned up and flicked her ears curiously. Tagaan laughed quietly and brushed her body horn. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to hunt.” Gorinna’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth. Tagaan pressed his finger to her lip. “No...I am your mate.” Her gaze softened. “Let me do this for you. Besides…” He wiggled his ears. “Little Nadi looked like he would appreciate some fresh venison.”

Gorinna flicked her ears forward and tucked her head back down. “...Thank you, Tagaan.” Emotion choked her pleasant voice. “I’ll do that. Just...just promise me one thing?” Anxious hope burned in her eyes.

“Of course.” He knelt and cupped her muzzle. “Anything.”

Gorinna’s hands reached gently to his. “...Come back. Don’t leave me.” 

Tagaan flinched back before swiftly pressing his head to hers. “I would never!” He stroked her slightly matted hair. “I am your mate! Your partner!” Concern dominated his voice. “What brought this horrible thought?”

“I’d…” She swallowed and turned her head. “I’d rather not talk about it. Right now, at least.”

Tagaan pulled back and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Then...then I shall not pry.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “But know that I am only concerned, and want you to be happy.”

Gorinna returned his squeeze and nestled in her bedding. “Thank you. I’ll…” She flicked her ears indecisively. “I’ll tell you later. If you want.”

Tagaan stood and turned, warmth filling his voice. “I’d like that, mate of mine. Now…” He exited her small room, speaking quietly over his shoulder. “Rest. That is a command.”

Gorinna laughed and waved her hand. “Fine! Go, male of mine. Find me food.” Humor warred with seriousness in her tone. “ _ That _ is a command.”

Tagaan wiggled his ears and saluted. “I hear and obey!” He turned and trot from her room, drifting laughter lifting his heart. Tagaan paused and glanced around her hut. Nadigan lay in his own small dwelling, nestled deeply in furs. Tagaan’s ears pressed forth. ‘ _ A good little one...and a new brother!’  _ He flexed his chest and continued towards the exit. ‘ _ So many things to teach him...so many stories!’  _ His spear fell easily in his calloused hand. ‘ _ Oh, father will be delighted to have another son! And mother will have another to tutt at.’  _ He laughed to himself, wiggling his ears fiercely. He lifted the huts flap and walked into the morning.

__ Light rain and fog suffocated the land. Tagaan tightened his shoulders and glanced around. ‘ _ I can hardly see...who knows what is lurking out there? More dead? Crazed humans?’  _ A shudder passed over him. Soft, distant birdsong soothed him. Pleasant insectoid droning eased his worry. ‘ _ Well...as long as I can hear the small ones, I am safe.’  _ He pressed his ears back and strode forth, flipping his spear expertly. ‘ _ Only if I  _ can’t _ , should I be worried.’  _ His eyes narrowed, observing the land keenly. ‘ _ Still...it would not hurt to be vigilant…’ _

His stride slowed. Refined senses woke and sharpened. Tagaan lowered his body, stalking through the unfamiliar kin-lands. His eyes studied the horizons. ‘ _ South, or east.’  _ He dredged up his hazy memories of the place. ‘ _ The humans are south-west...it is mountains and plains to the north…’  _ He rolled his shoulders and paused, crouching in the underbrush. ‘ _ I am most familiar with forest hunting, and do not wish to encounter the humans.’  _ His ears flicked forth. ‘ _ So east, erring south.’  _ Tagaan lifted himself and moved on.

The persistent rain drove harder, growing heavy and fierce. Chilling fog clung to his hide and marred his vision. Tagaan slowed his pace. ‘ _ I must be more alert...I cannot smell anything like this.’  _ His eyes strained against the moist air. ‘ _ Nor see. My senses are dull. I could easily be ambushed.’  _ He wiggled his ears. ‘ _ Or worse, miss an opportunity. I did say I would come back successful. My mate is relying on me.’  _ A warm surge flashed through him. ‘ _ My mate! I have a mate!’  _ Giddy joy bubbled up. ‘ _ A mate...a partner...by the ancestors, this is a good day!’  _ Realization struck him. ‘ _ The ceremony! We are not fully bonded!’  _ A dreadful sheen poured over his mood. ‘ _ Oh...oh no...what will father think!? I rutt her before being bonded!’  _ Stark horror seized his limbs. ‘ _ What will  _ mother  _ think? Or Daavansa!?’  _ Welling panic built within him. ‘ _ Oh no...oh no...I...this is…’  _

Tagaan stopped and sat beneath a tree. His left hand clutched his chest, and his spear point wavered. ‘ _ Ancestors below...this could be bad. This could be very bad…’  _ A soft mewl escaped him. ‘ _ How could I even  _ approach _ Rika!? “Greetings, venerable shaman! Could you please bond us now that I’ve defiled this woman already?” Phah!’  _ Tagaan’s ears flicked wildly. Distressed thoughts thundered through his unfocused eyes. ‘ _ Maybe...Maybe we could keep it secret? Tell no one and act as if we were pure?’  _ A groan rumbled his chest. ‘ _ No...no no! That cunning old Nag always sees right through me!’  _ His spear clattered to the earth. He pressed his palms against his eyes and hunched on himself. ‘ _ What will...how much shame...Ancestors!’ _

Tagaan dropped his hands and let loose a choked bellow. Frustration poured in an endless tide, depleting his lungs and spirit. The male leaned back against the tree and worried his lip. ‘ _ Honesty...only honesty...admit my wrong and beg for lenience...it is the best outcome.’  _ Fat, heavy raindrops soaked his hide. Tagaan wrapped his fingers around his spear and placed the butt against the ground. A dark thought swept through him. ‘ _ At least I only have to explain this to  _ my _ family. The fangs of the ancients would tear me asunder if not…’  _ Tagaan pressed his ears back and looked to the sky. He blinked against the persistent rain. ‘... _ I should get up. I made a promise. I said I would get her food.’  _ Tagaan pushed himself up and shook his soggy hide. ‘ _ I can at least keep my word. Even if I…’ _ A heavy sigh drained his vigor. ‘ _ No point moping. Get moving. Hunt. Clear your mind and deal with... _ that... _ later.’  _

A small spark of resolve kindled in his chest. Nagging doubt worried around the troubling thought. ‘ _ Perhaps...perhaps  _ proving _ my devotion…’  _ Energy burned back to his limbs. Tagaan rolled his shoulders and steadied his spear arm. ‘I  _ know I’m devoted. That is why I did what I did. The problem would be  _ others _ doubting it!’  _ He crouched and honed his senses. ‘ _ I will  _ prove _ it!  _ Prove  _ I intend to mate her, not simply rutt and abandon her!’  _ Tagaan moved forward, stalking once more.  _ ‘Yes...yes I think this will work. By the ancestors, I think this will work!’  _

The ram ghosted through the forest, low to the ground and observant. His ears tucked back. Bushes brushed by him. His form passed easily through the misty morning. Tagaan paused periodically, scanning his eyes over the woodlands. Well trained instinct eased and guided his anxious mind. Hooves swept over muddy soil and slick rock. Birdsong and prevailing rain drowned sound. Wet, foggy wind stifled the land. Tagaan’s limbs tucked loosely under his crouched form. Several long moments passed while he traversed the sodden landscape. His trail wound around trees and through unfamiliar bushes, pulling him further into the wild. 

Tagaan wandered through the woods, mind quiet and alert. Wet ache built in his joints, creeping through him with the passing hours. Tagaan crested a small hill and peered along the sunken riverbed. His ears flicked forward. ‘ _ Water. Good. Now to find the bank, and wait.’  _ He rolled his shoulders and shook himself slightly. Heavy droplets left his fur and joined the puddles upon the earth. ‘ _ Hopefully beneath a tree. All this rain is starting to chill.’  _ Tagaan stalked up the river, scanning the sides intently. A heavy wooden bridge sprung around a corner. Tagaan growled and clutched his spear tightly. ‘ _ Looks human...But…’  _ His eyes locked upon a large embankment near the structure. ‘ _ That looks promising. I’ll wait...humans would not be traveling in this weather, after all.’  _ He crouched beneath a tree, sliding along the rough bark. ‘ _ Far too soft. Far too weak.’  _ His eyes flashed over the terrain. ‘ _ No need to worry. I will wait, and find some prey here.’  _ His spear rested over his knees. Tranquility lay over him. 

Rain pattered over him horns and head. Tagaan’s ears pressed back uneasily. ‘ _ Why, under the wide skies is it raining so much!?’  _ A huffed quietly, breath fogging in the chill air. ‘ _ There has been perhaps  _ one _ day of sun? How could any live like this?’  _ HIs ears tucked tightly against his skull. ‘ _ I must bring Gorinna back, and swiftly. I do not like it here.’  _ A humorous thought twitched his ear forward. ‘ _ Perhaps  _ this _ is why the Moon is always so surly. I would be as well, were my fur always soaked through.’  _ He laughed softly and tapped his fingers over his spear. ‘ _ It would wear away the sanity of any, I think.’  _

Tagaan stilled himself and leaned against the tree. Relaxed awareness replaced his anxiety. Ambush readied, mind cleared, Tagaan waited. Rain fell over his head and time passed.

A small movement caught his eye. Tagaan flicked his eyes to the appearance. His ears pressed back uneasily.  _ ‘What is that? I’ve...it…’  _ A creature waddled from the thicket, descending to the riverbank. Short, coarse fur covered it’s hide. Its snout snuffled about the soil before dipping in the water.  _ ‘It looks almost like a hog...but far too soft. To small.’  _ Large and drooping ears hung over its face, twitching slightly. ‘ _ It must be the humans. Corrupting the very land they live upon.’  _ Contemptuous fury burned his heart. ‘ _ Look what that hog has become! Weak! Small! A farce of what it should be.’  _ He growled and levered himself forward. His spear inched to his side and cocked directly back. ‘ _ It would be a mercy to kill. A  _ mercy _ to return it to the soil.’  _ The soft-hog raised its head and snuffled the air. Pity tightened Tagaan’s arm. ‘ _ I’m sorry…’  _ His left side pushed forward, balancing his spear arm. ‘ _ Find peace in death, soft one.’  _ Tagaan hurled his pole.

Steel sunk bit deep. Crimson splashed in the muddy soil. The soft-hog squealed and ran, tripping over the hefty spear piercing its chest. Tagaan sprung across the small river. A powerful leap landed his near the soft-hog. His hand swept along his leg, seeking his knife. Empty air met his grasp. Tagaan swore and gripped the spear. A single flowing movement wrenched the weapon free and slit the soft-hogs throat.

The soft-hog writhed on the floor, sputtering its life over a brief moment. Tagaan stepped back and readied his spear. ‘ _ Is it really still alive?’  _ Painful convulsions wracked the creature. Merciful stillness fell over the bank. Tagaan relaxed and lowered his spear. ‘ _ No...no it merely wanted life. What a waste…’  _ He sunk to his knees and choked his spear grip. ‘ _ At least you will feed my new family. Honor to you, soft one.’  _

Tagaan gut the corpse, tossing offal and visceral into the river behind him.  _ ‘Nothing but the heart will last the journey home. A fine treat for Nadigan, I think.’  _ Tagaan grunted and slung the body over his shoulders. A deep breath filled his lungs and he turned. Tagaan flinched back.

A human, clothed in a heavy coat and thick boots, mirrored his action upon the bridge. Tagaan flung the hog from his shoulders and kicked up his spear. His eyes tracked over the human. ‘ _ Something on its back. Knives around it’s waist and hooves. Black fur, cut around face…’  _ Tagaan’s eyes widened. ‘ _ I  _ know  _ that face.’  _ Recognition flared in the human’s eyes. Haazixan’s tormentor yelled a loud human word and brought up its odd weapon. ‘ _ A cross of wood? What does it…’  _ A loud snap split the air, and a bolt of steel-tipped wood shot forth. 

Tagaan flung himself back. Steel slammed home in his chest. The sharpened tip cut his lung. Tagaan gripped the offending projectile. A disturbing rattle accompanied his suddenly labored breaths. “Insolent CUR!” Tagaan howled fiercely. The human shouted some unintelligible sound back. Sprinting, Tagaan crested the small incline and landed atop the human bridge. 

His opponent yelled more sounds and dropped his weapon. Tagaan pressed his ears back in confusion. ‘ _ He surrenders? What?’  _ The human’s hand swept along his waist and flung toward him. Tagaan slammed himself aside. A blur of steel clattered against the wood behind him. His hooves dug and scraped, steadying and raising him.

Panic lit the human’s eyes. Vicious glee warmed Tagaan’s blood. “Yes! Fear the Son of…” The human’s hand flicked. A steely projectile bit his chest. A knife hit the ground before him. A fresh cut stung him, leaking blood and warmth. Tagaan mat fur over the wound and rushed forward. He roared precious air in the human’s face. “Wretched SWINE!” His spear lashed out, deadly point seeking the human’s heart. The human twisted nimbly away, hand clutching something beneath his coat. 

Tagaan slammed his hoof down and pivoted, curving his spear into the human’s dodge. A horrid hash rent the man’s chest. The human flung a small orb at him. Tagaan caught the object easily. ‘ _ There was no force…why would he…’  _ The human scrambled away. Instinct froze his blood. Tagaan dropped the object and pushed himself back.

A deafening boom rattled his nerves, blazing fire and force over him. Tagaan cried in pain and fell back. Ruinous damage leaked precious fluid. A sharp ringing dominated his senses. Tagaan rolled to his stomach and braced on his arms. A single dry heave wracked his stomach. Forcing his arms into movement, Tagaan hurled himself up.

The human ran, back turned and head tucked. Tagaan howled inchorently and spun his spear. Trotting forward three unsteady paces he flung the deadly weapon. Steel hammered home in the human’s back, throwing him to the muddy earth. Tagaan reared back and yelled, straining throat overcoming the deafening ring. He lowered and shook his head. The human knelt, hands desperately fumbling over his spear. ‘ _ The skewered fish, floundered and helpless.’  _ Vindictive glee eased his pain. Several powerful tugs yanked the polearm from the human’s flesh. ‘ _ See how it squirms!?’  _ He spoke aloud, speaking to the air around him. “See how it falls to my vengeance!?” Wracking coughs tore his chest. Tagaan hunched and gripped his desolated flesh. Small shards of bloody iron glint under his hide, and several chunks of flesh hung limply from the surrounding skin. A scorched break splintered the wooden bolt. “Not even its  _ devil tricks _ could deny me…” He lifted his head and pressed his ears forth. “I am the Son of…” 

The human held a vial to his lips. A viscous red liquid poured down his throat. The human pushed to his feet and stumbled further down the road. Tagaan’s ears pressed back. ‘ _ What foolishness, it is already dead.’  _ Hands clutching ruined flesh tight, he followed the human. ‘ _ Now to wait for it die.’  _ The human’s stride steadied. Worry blared in Tagaan’s mind. ‘ _ A final surge of adrenaline. Nothing more.’  _ The human’s speed increased. Tagaan pushed himself forward, stumbling after the human. ‘ _ It will fall any moment. It is dying.’  _ The human tucked its head and ran. ‘ _ No...no, no! It is  _ not _ escaping! It is  _ not!’ The human spun nimbly, hand flowing from waist into a powerful throw. A knife flashed.

Tagaan roared and flung himself aside. Steel sung past him. The ground hit Tagaan hard, draining his energy and wounding his pride. ‘ _ No…’ _ Tagaan rolled and stood sluggishly. The human’s coattails flipped in the distance. ‘ _ No...again...not again…’ _ He stumbled forward, clutching his ravaged hide. ‘ _ Not again...not again…’ _ The human disappeared from view. 

Tagaan stood still. Disbelieving horror washed through him. ‘ _ But...I...I should have…’ _ His knees hit the muddy soil. Tagaan’s head dipped. Sorrow wrenched his heart. ‘ _ How could...but…’ _ Tagaan wheezed a frothy breath. ‘ _ He should have died...vengeance was mine…’  _ His palms tightened. His throat choked. ‘ _ It was...mine…’ _

The rain poured relentlessly. Tagaan’s blood mixed freely with the muddy soil. Long moments passed while the wounded ram clutched his hurt body. ‘ _ It was mine...and I…’ _ Tagaan lifted his head to the uncaring sky. Heavy droplets soaked him, clouding his sight and striking against his eyes. ‘ _ I lost it...I failed.’ _ Tagaan pushed himself up. ‘ _ I failed...I failed my little Haazi. For the second time, his  _ defiler _ escapes me.’  _ A deep sigh rattled his wounded body. ‘ _...I promised to return…’ _ Limping through the stained soil, Tagaan hunched over his chest. ‘ _ I can at  _ least  _ keep my word. Even if I can't...can’t bring my brother honor.’  _ A quick snatch returned his spear, and he quickly tied it to his back. He limped on, carefully making his way to the gutted soft-hog. Mud soiled the once clean hide. Tagaan pressed his ear back stoically and knelt down. Flexing his chest, Tagaan hooked the hog’s legs over his shoulders. Adjusting the weight over his still-strong body, Tagaan set out.

A slow, steady pace brought him back into the woodlands. Rain washed bloody remnants over his hide, and sapped away his vigor. Rivulets of murky fluid drenched him. Heavy drops fell from his soaked fur. ‘ _ What a sorry sight I am.’  _ Tagaan huffed and straightened his chest. Splitting pain collapsed his stance. ‘ _ Ancestors!’  _ Grunting harshly, he steeled his nerves. ‘ _ Cooraan’s beating heart...It hurts…’ _ His hooves pressed onwards. 

The muddy land slowly fell behind him. Heavier darkness pressed over the land. The trills of birds slowed before vanishing altogether. Insects droned heavily. Fatigue built in his heart and body. His limbs grew heavy and dull. Tagaan’s blessed hide stitched itself together, laboriously pulling his body closed. Tagaan returned to the Moon clan Kin-Lands shortly after nightfall. 

He wrenched his gaze up and sighed. ‘ _ It took me far too long...she probably thinks I left.’ _ Ears wiggling weakly, he laughed. ‘ _ At least I can give  _ one  _ person a good surprise. This hog should keep them fed for some time.’  _ Tagaan pushed himself forward. A small spark of vigor relit in his chest. ‘ _ Perhaps she will be  _ grateful _ , and tend my wounds.’  _ Tagaan huffed a breathless laugh. ‘ _ Ah, no. I don’t think I would even be up to such a thing.’  _ Something tugged his mind. Tagaan slowed and scanned his eyes around the area. ‘ _...What is wrong here? I can’t tell, but something is surely wrong…’ _ A strained grunt pushed him on. ‘ _ Gorinna will know, I hope. I hope she knows…’ _ Wracking shivers shook his spine. ‘ _ I hope everything is alright.’ _

Tagaan approached her hut and cleared his throat. “Gorinna! I return.” Limbs still moving slowly he continued. “I’ve brought back…”

Gorinna burst from the small hut. Anxious worry plastered over her fine features, she cast her eyes wildly over him. A wordless cry of relief and joy split her throat and she tackled into Tagaan. “Tagaan! I thought…”

Tagaan shifted himself and pressed his forehead to hers. “Never, silly woman.” He nuzzled his tired neck into her snout. “I promised I would bring you food.”

“Not that.” Gorinna pulled back and glanced away. Her ears fell. “I worried...I worried you had died.”

Tagaan’s heart twitched. “What? What do you mean?” He looked over her shoulder. “Is Nadigan alright? Why would I be killed?”

Gorinna pat his snout tenderly and pulled his gaze back to her. “Nadigan is fine. I am fine.” Relief slumped his form. “But...the humans...they….”

Cold worry burned him. “What? What have the humans done?”

“Tagaan...they…” Gorinna inhaled deeply and steadied herself. “They invaded.” Tagaan flinched back. “They invaded, and stormed...they took hold of the Cave of Elders.” 

“What!?” Tagaan bared his teeth. “I will kill them myself! I will…”

Gorinna flicked his nose. “No! No you will not!” Strained anger and sorrow choked her voice. “They know what it means to us, Tagaan. They hold our ancients  _ hostage _ . They speak their cruel tongue and break…” Gorinna shivered and looked away. “They...break horns when we approach…” Her voice broke. Harrowed tremors shook her. 

“The monsters…” Tagaan whispered. He dropped the soft-hog behind him. “The  _ fiends _ …what do we do? Why...why do they...what...”

Gorinna pressed her ears back. “Why…” Sorrow choked her. “... _ why… _ They  _ told  _ us why, Tagaan.” Her eyes met his. “One of them speaks our tongue. They...they want us to attack the human clan.” She tucked her snout into his shoulder. “They want  _ us _ to fight  _ their _ battle.”

“...And the cowards hold our ancients captive to ensure we fight…” Tagaan growled and pulled his mate closer. “Evil. Evil and  _ clever _ . What can we do against it?” His ears flicked back. “Nothing...they hold the Moon at their command…”

Gorinna enfolded her arms around him. “...Yes. They...command...the Moon Clan.” Shivers wracked her. “With a knife to our blessed kin, they command us.”

“What can we do?” Tagaan closed his eyes. “...What can we do? Ancestors preserve us…”


	45. Chapter 45

Robert leaned over the railing, chewing his lip and humming idly. ‘ _ Now how’d that old tune go...the one mother was always hummin’?’  _ He licked his lips and furrowed his brows. ‘ _ Da dee dee da? Dee dee dee da?’ _ A grumble broke his melody. ‘ _ Bah. Not no good at music anyhow.’ _ Buzzing his lips, Robert stretched his arms high. ‘ _ Can get me some shut eye soon. Jus’ needa watch a while longer.’ _ A content sigh lowered him back to the railing. ‘ _ Jus’ a mite longer.’  _

“Ho there!” A haggard but pleasant voice called. Robert flinched and looked over the wall. A man dressed in a bloody and torn overcoat waved halfheartedly. His well-groomed mustache and stylish goatee hung limp and soaked against his sharp features. He shifted from one heavy boot to another, posture ready and alert. “I’d be most grateful if you would open your gate, sir.” He grinned and held an arm over his head. “You’d not  _ believe _ the day I’ve had.”

Robert glanced deeper in the rainy woods and pursed his lips. “Now, I’d love to, Mister…” 

“Lyndon.” Lyndon shifted back on his heel. “The name’s Lyndon.” A smirk lifted his cheek. “Don’t tell me that you’ve got a ‘no vagabonds’ rule.”

Robert grinned. “Ah, no. Nothin’ like that, friend. Jus’...” He folded his arms and leaned over the railing. “We’ve been havin’ problems with crazies. Cultists been hittin’ us hard.” He looked up through the heavy rain. “Don’t s’pose you’ve got some way ta prove you’re not with ‘em?”

Lyndon sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. “For the love of…” Folding his arms, he shook his head. “No. I’ve no way to  _ prove _ I’m not a…” He clawed his fingers in the air. “ _ Crazy. _ Isn’t my roguish charm good enough?” His smirk returned. “I’ve worked very hard on it.”

Robert clenched his jaw and looked the man over. ‘ _ I don’t see no weapons on him...He sure ain’t dressed like a cultist…’  _ A thoughtful rumble shook his chest. ‘ _ Then again...cultists don’t need no weapons...they’ve got magics.’  _ Robert rubbed his jaw.

Lyndon coughed politely. “Excuse me, but I  _ am  _ standing in the rain.” His fingers tapped a staccato. “I would appreciate a swift and positive answer.”

“Right! Right.” Robert cleared his throat and straightened himself. “You seem harmless enough friend, and I’d hate to leave you out there.” He stared Lyndon down. “So jus’ promise me this, man to man; You’ll behave yourself. Won’t cause no trouble.”

Lyndon grinned and crossed his heart. “I do so swear! I will be on my absolute  _ best _ behavior.” He shifted and hunched slightly. “Now, could you open this gate? Colder than my Aunt’s heart out here.”

Robert furrowed his brows and grumbled. “Aye, aye.” He shot one menacing look. “Don’t much appreciate your sarcastic tone, though.” He huffed and moved to the lever. “Oaths…” A heave and a grunt lowered the sturdy gate. “...Are serious. Not somethin’ to take lightly.”

Lyndon trot through the open gate and waved his hand. “Yes, yes. I’m a man of my word and all that.” He looked around the town. “This town has an inn, right?” A dark grimace tugged his lips. “...or Heaven’s forbid, a church? Somewhere, _ anywhere _ , that I can thaw out?”

“What’s so bad ‘bout the church?” Wariness sharpened his voice. “Akarat’ll save ya, y’know. Teach ya the right way to live.”

Lyndon groaned. “Hell...you’re a zealot, aren’t you?”

Robert quirked a brow. “Don’t know what that means.” He folded his powerful arms. “But if it means I’m a follower’a Akarat, then aye. I’m a  _ zealot _ .”

“Glad to hear it.” Sourness dominated Lyndon’s tone and visage. “And no need to convert me, I’ve already said my ‘oaths of thievery’ or what have you.”

Robert scowled. “Ain’t no such oaths, Lyndon.” 

Lyndon’s jaw hung open. “...I...that…” He shook his head and leaned back. “By that Akarat you types always swear by, that was a  _ joke. _ ” Pursing his lips he looked away. “What I mean is I’m not a member, and I’m  _ not _ looking to be one.” He raised a finger. “And before you get hoighty toighty on me, could you please tell me where a place to dry off is? You can lecture me all about how my soul is damned there.”

“You’ve a bit a nerve, Lyndon.” He jerked his head aside. “Slaughtered Calf’s over there. I’ve got a bridge to raise up.” His eyes glint dangerously. “And  _ oaths _ to fulfill. Got a  _ duty _ , stuff I should be  _ doin’.” _

A grateful sigh loosened Lyndon’s back. “Glad to hear it.” He pat Robert on the shoulder and strode away. “Thanks for your help, my zealous friend.”

Robert scowled and watched the man depart.  _ ‘What a rotter.’  _ He shook his head and violently raised the bridge back into position. ‘ _ Blasted  _ fiend’s  _ mockin’ me after I help ‘im!’  _ Anger tightened his chest and neck. He resumed his position on the wall, and clenched his fists angrily. ‘ _ And what kinda man don’t  _ want _ to serve Akarat? To be a better man an’ serve tha Light!?’  _ Hateful clarity sharpened his senses. ‘ _...Rotten cultists, that’s who.”  _ His knuckles whitened. ‘ _ No good blasted  _ fiends _ who turned from the light.’  _ His eyes widened. ‘ _...an’ I jus’ let ‘im in…’  _ Pivoting sharply, he ran towards the Slaughtered Calf.

Mud splashed in the rain. Robert snarled and thundered forth. Viciously seizing the Slaughtered Calf’s door, he hurled himself inside. Terrified shouts and bellows surged. Confusion and concerned questions swiftly supplanted them. Robert scanned the room. Three refugees played some game of cards in a far corner, and numerous bedrolls lay splayed around the inn’s outskirts. Lyndon and Leah stood near the bar. A smattering of coins dot the table, and surprise widened both of their faces.

Robert hefted his mace and stepped cautiously forward. “Leah...step back from ‘im.” Lyndon blinked and opened his jaw. “Somethin’ ain’t right ‘bout ‘im!”

A vile expletive left Lyndon’s throat. He immediately raised his hands and stepped back. “I mean no harm!” A nervous scowl tugged his features. “Blast it to Hell man! You just let me in!”

“That was afore I knew you was a cultist.” Robert spun his mace. 

Disbelief lowered Lyndon’s stance. “A...a what?” He cocked his head. “Cultist?”

Leah stepped between the men and held her hands towards both. “Stop it! Stop!” Robert locked his jaw and fell quiet. Lyndon stepped a foot back. “Kasalis...what is going on here!?”

Robert popped his neck and pointed his mace. “That…” Hatred boiled through his words. “... _ fiend _ ’s a cultist. He’s here to put us down from tha inside.”

Lyndon groaned and covered his face. “Fuck’s sake!” Raising his hands above his head, he steeled his visage. “I, am  _ not.  _ A. Cultist.”

“Yes. You. Are!” Robert snarled through his teeth.

Leah trembled and licked her lips. “Kasalis...please...listen to me.” Robert grimaced and wrenched his eyes from Lyndon. “What makes you think he’s a cultist?”

“Ha!” He folded his arms and smirked. “Was all too easy to sniff out.” His steely gaze fell back on Lyndon. “Fool  _ confessed _ he don’t serve Akarat. Ain’t no more damnin’ proof’n that.” Rolling his powerful shoulders, he readied his mace again. “Now, if ya’d kindly…”

Leah’s eyes hardened. “Kasalis! No!” Sudden iron laced her voice. Straightening her spine, she turned and faced him. “You will not hurt him!” 

Robert lowered his arms and cocked his head. “But...why…”

“Because he’s not a cultist!” Leah folded her arms. “All he said is he doesn’t serve Akarat? Really!?” Anger marred her dainty features. “There  _ are  _ other faiths, Kasalis. And they are every bit as valid as yours!”

Robert stepped back and jabbed his finger at Lyndon. “But he…” He cleared his throat and snarled. “Fine then! What faith  _ do  _ ya serve? Huh!?”

Lyndon raised his arms and stepped back. “I don’t serve  _ any _ faith!” His eyes flicked to the inn’s entrance. “Sanctioned or otherwise! I answer to myself, no one else.”

Robert furrowed his brows. “No one?...but…” He lowered his mace and scratched his short hair. “What...what do you...surely you serve  _ some _ higher purpose? Right?” Chewing his lip, he leaned back. “Some...some uh…creed? Some kinda code?”

Lyndon cautiously lowered his hands. “I don’t. I live, I don’t serve.” Steely tenacity filled his eyes and words. “I’ve never served. And I don’t intend to.”

Robert blinked and opened his jaw. ‘ _ But...but…’  _ A slow shake cleared his foggy head. “But...what...what do you do then?” Weak tremors shook his voice. “How do you...how do you know what you’re  _ supposed  _ to do? What...guides you? I can’t be nothin’...it can’t.”

Lyndon sighed and folded his arms. “It  _ can  _ actually.” Tiredness staining his voice, Lyndon closed his eyes and leaned back. “I guide myself. I  _ don’t  _ know what to do half the time, but every decision I make is  _ mine _ .” He opened his eyes and met Robert’s. “No one else’s. It might mean I’ll burn in your Hell, but I accept that. This is  _ my  _ life.  _ Not  _ a code’s. Not some kings. Not even Akarat’s.” He hooked a thumb and pressed it to his chest. “I’ll eat the consequences of my choices when it comes time to dine, because they are  _ mine. _ ” His gaze softened. “I don’t have much in this world. I’ve had more taken from me than most have ever even had. But…” He held up his left index. “The one thing  _ no one _ can take, are my choices. Even if I have  _ nothing _ left, I will still be  _ free _ . And  _ that…”  _ His voice quieted. “...is all I truly need.”

Robert stepped back. His waist bumped a table. Questing blindly behind him, his fingers grabbed a chair and brought it beneath himself. He dropped into the chair and leaned back. Dropping his hand beside him, Robert shook his head slowly. “I jus’...I...but  _ how _ ?” He rested his mace across his lap and folded his arms. “How...why...I don’t understand.”

Leah exhaled and visibly relaxed. “It’s just how some people work, Kasalis.” She smiled and fell back against the bar. “Lot’s of people, really. I mean…” She folded her arms and chuckled. “I say my Oaths at Mass, but I’m hardly devout.” 

“I’ve never said one in my life.” Alice chimed from the doorway.

Robert flinched and grabbed his mace. He wildly looked to the door and hissed. “Alice! Don’t ya go scarin’ me like that.” His mace dropped to the floor. Robert groaned and rubbed his temples. “Shite…” A heavy sigh dropped him back in his chair. “And what’d’ya mean, you’ve never said an Oath?”

Alice chuckled and sauntered towards him. Lyndon turned his head and whispered anxiously to Leah. She leaned into his ear and replied quietly. Alice walked by, circling around Robert’s chair. “I mean exactly what I said, dearie.” Her hands rested over his shoulders. Gentle digging motions loosened his knotted muscle. Robert dipped his head and groaned appreciatively. ‘ _ Light above, but that feels good.’ _ Alice hummed quietly and continued working her fingers. “I’ve never said a  _ single  _ Oath of Zakarum.” Robert grunted. “I know, ‘vile heretic’.” 

“S’not what I mean’t…” Robert muttered. Quiet chatter slowly resumed. The tension of the evening burned down.

Alice leaned over and frowned. “But it’s what you said.” Her fingers slowed. “You told him he was evil because he follows no creed.” She continued massaging his shoulders. “That’s not fair, I think.” Robert frowned and tucked his head. Alice paused a moment before continuing. “You don’t know anything about him, but cast that kind of judgement? That is not right.” Robert grunted an affirmation. “I mean...you know me, right? I seem good and honest, yet I’ve actively dealt with devils. I have the eyes and blood of one, even. Does that make me evil?”

“...No…” Robert spoke quietly. “No. You’re helpin’ folks, an’ doin’ good…”

Alice rested her hands. “Thank you. You do as well. But I’m a heathen, Kasalis.” Robert flinched. “I  _ actively _ avoid worship of any kind.” She pat his shoulder fondly. “You actively  _ seek _ worship, and that is fine.” Her arms draped over him and squeezed gently. She whispered softly in his ear. “Everyone looks for their own path, Kasalis. Please don’t spite someone simply because they choose a different one.” She withdrew and rested a hand on his shoulder. “You’re better than that. I  _ know  _ you are.” 

Robert gripped her hand and squeezed gently. “...I…” Bitter, shameful tears burned his eyes. Robert sniffed and tucked his head. “Thank you, Alice. And I’ll...I…” His head fell. “I jus’ don’t understand, Alice. I really don’t.” He cradled his head. “How can someone  _ not  _ serve? How can ya not have faith?”

Alice dropped her hand and pursed her lips. “...I don’t know if you ever  _ will _ understand, Kasalis.” A soft chuckle escaped her. “ _ I _ can’t understand how you  _ are _ faithful. But…” Robert lifted his head and furrowed his brow. Alice smiled. “We aren’t asking you to understand. Only to accept.”

Robert bit his lip and nodded. ‘ _ Accept...aye...I can do that.’ _ He rubbed his arms and cleared his throat. “Right. I, Uh...aye.” Turning sharply, he nodded. “I can do that.”

“Thank you, Kasalis.” The inn waxed peaceful. Several refugees settled into their bedrolls. Townsfolk departed. The quiet night outside filtered through the opening door. Alice turned and walked further in the inn. “That honestly means much. Now, I’m going to talk to our new guest.” Her heels clacked away. “Introduce myself, explain the situation, all the pleasantries.”

Robert nodded and waved his hand meekly. ‘ _ What do I even do…’  _ Clumsy fingers quested for his mace. ‘ _ Alice? A heathen? Leah doesn’t hold Akarat near’n dear?’  _ He sighed and heaved himself up. ‘ _ I...I can’t even...Light above me, but I don’t understand!’  _ Reholstering his mace, Robert turned and ascended the stairs. ‘ _ How...how in the Burning Hells could someone  _ not _ serve? It doesn’t make any sense…’  _ The wooden steps shuddered under his heavy footfalls. ‘ _ Akarat gave us the Light…The Light keeps us safe...heals us, protects us…’  _ He stopped before his rooms door. Reaching towards the handle, he paused. ‘ _...The Light is  _ salvation. _ What kinda person don’t want to serve it? I jus’ don’t understand…’  _ Robert sighed and shook himself. Opening the door, he entered his small room and shut it behind him. ‘ _ I don’t understand…’  _ Robert untied his boots and sat on his bed. The bed rose up, impacting his back. A grunt vented his frustration. His hands covered his face. Exhaustion bore down. ‘ _ I jus’ don’t understand…’ _


	46. Chapter 46

Robert opened his eyes. Bleary fatigue ate away his will. ‘ _ I don’t wanna wake up…’  _ He rubbed his eyes and pushed himself up. ‘ _ Jus’ wanna sleep for now...that so wrong?’  _ Pausing at the bed’s edge, he hung his head. ‘ _...yeah. It is wrong. I’m needed.’  _ He gripped his shoulder and pushed the joint. A soft pop eased a small bit of his tension. ‘ _ Folks need me to be vigilant. Ready and able to protect ‘em.’  _ He leaned over his lap. Eyes closed, he sighed heavily. ‘ _ Need’a be ready. But…’  _ His hands gripped his knees unsteadily. ‘ _ Akarat’s bleedin’ teeth, But I’m spent.’  _ A forceful shove righted him atop his heavy legs. ‘ _ Nothin’ for it. Get up. Get movin’. Get doin’ somethin’.  _ Robert rubbed his eyes and waddled to his door. Blindly fumbling for the handle, a powerful yawn shook him. ‘ _ Nothin’ wakes the blood like doin’ somethin’. S’what mother always said.’  _

‘ _ Yep, and mother’s always right. Ain’t never led me astray, no ma’am.’  _ He opened the door and grinned, lost in the happy memories.  _ A soft kick woke him. Robert looked up. Kasalis smiled down and reached to help him up, talking about needing to move. Robert groaned and rubbed his eyes. He muttered petulantly, speaking of how they should just sleep. Kasalis spoke softly, chiding him on being a lazy boy. Robert grumbled and sat up, whinging over his inevitable exhaustion. Kasalis crouched by him and poked his stomach, saying how food and movement would wake him. Robert sighed dramatically and stood, packing away his simple belongings. Warm sunlight and calming birdsong filled the air. Kasalis called over her shoulder for him to pick up a sturdy stick; that they would be training for a sword today. Exuberant energy flared, burning away his fatigue. _

“Kasalis?” Robert blinked and looked behind him. He hissed and popped his neck. ‘ _ Got lost in thought again…’ _ Leah pursed her lips and followed his sharp look. “Something wrong? You were standing there for a few minutes…”

Robert cleared his throat and shook his head. “Ah, no. No.” Shifting his weight, he leaned against the doorframe. “Jus’...jus’ a bit’a...fatigue. Yeah.” He rubbed his neck. “Yeah…”

An awkward silence stretched between them. Leah nodded slowly. “...Okay. If you say so.” She tapped her heel and glanced aside. “Anyway, breakfast should be ready soon. Feel free to grab some from Bron.”

Robert cocked his head. “Who? Don’t think I’ve met a Bron…” 

Leah barked a laugh and grinned. “Oh, I’m not surprised. He runs the place, but he’s a very nervous person.” Sighing happily, she shook her head. “The moment people started talking about the risen dead, he locked himself away in the cellar.” She raised a hand. “Now don’t think he’s selfish. He let people  _ in _ . Just refused to come  _ out _ until recently.” 

“Ah…” Robert scratched his head. ‘ _ I mean...least he let people in. S’all I can really ask, I s’pose.’ _ He grinned and lowered his arms. “Thanks for wakin’ me and lettin’ me know.”

Leah grinned. “Oh! No, I actually came by to wake Lyndon up.” A soft laugh shook her chest. “He asked to be woken ‘The bloody  _ moment _ food was ready.’” She looked him up and down. “In fact, I thought you’d be in bed for a while. What woke you?”

Robert cleared his throat and glanced aside. “Oh. I, uh...woke myself.” He licked his lips nervously. “Need ta be up and moving, y’know? Work to be done. Things ta do.”

“What? What needs done?” Her eyes narrowed. “What do you need to do this morning?”

Robert sniffed and looked away. “Uh...important stuff, y’know?” His feet tapped uneasily. “Like standin’ watch…”

Leah sighed and pinched her nose. “Akarat give me patience…” Crossing her arms, she cocked her hip. “Fine. Go ahead and stand watch if you want. I don’t think you  _ should _ .” Robert pursed his lips and folded his arms. “No, I  _ don’t  _ think you should. You look like you’re about to collapse.” Leah quieted her tone. “Besides, you’re all about being useful, right? How useful would a sleeping watchman be? I mean…” She paused and shook her head. “...I’m just trying to help you.”

Robert glanced aside. “Well...yeah, I…” Turning aside, he cleared his throat. “I appreciate it. Jus’... I mean  _ somebody’s  _ gotta be up on the wall.” His hands rested on his hips. “Might as well be me.”

“Okay...okay.” Leah chewed her lip and shifted her weight. “But what if someone else was watching the walls? Would you actually get some sleep then?”

A hopeful flicked warmed him. ‘ _ I...I  _ could _ get some shut eye if someone else…’  _ Robert licked his lips pensively. “I mean...if someone else was really  _ doin’ _ it, I could go back to bed.”

Leah grinned, tension leaving her stance. “Good! I’ll go tell Roger to take a watch for a few hours.” She lowered her arms and nodded. “Don’t you worry, he’s a good guy. And you’ll be able to go back out and be all brave and heroic later.”

Robert huffed a laugh and waved his hand. “Brace and heroic...no ma’am, it’s  _ cold  _ and  _ tired. _ ’” Strength bled from him, sloughing off with his faltering will. “Better me’n someone else, though.” He rubbed his eyes and muttered. “Still won’t mind some rest…Take care, Leah.” He closed the door behind him. A soft laugh wandered down the hall and under the door. Robert grinned sluggishly and trudged to his bed. Pausing briefly before the simple furniture, he lowered himself down. ‘ _ Might as well say a prayer a’fore I sleep some more. Ain’t been much good ‘bout it recently…’  _ He dipped his head and clasped his palms. ‘ _ Heavenly Light above, hear my prayer: Safeguard this town and provide for them; keep my mothers safe an’ well…’  _ A brief moment of dread and sorrow overtook him. ‘ _...please, keep ‘em safe. An’ give me the strength to persevere and guard these folks. For this, I reaffirm my Oath: I stand before the shadow for all that is behind me. I fight the dark beneath the light of Akarat. To the last blade, to the last breath, I shall battle evil. My sword and soul, now and forever, I pledge to the light.’  _ Robert shifted his weight and licked his lips. ‘ _ And I renew the laws that bind me; I shall nurture in my heart compassion and peace. I shall kill with heavy heart and hand. I will not doubt the righteousness of my cause. I shall protect those who cannot protect themselves. I shall judge others upon merit and character. And I shall practice mercy. By these laws and my oath, I am yours. Amen.’  _

Robert buzzed his lips and stood, stretching his stiffening muscle. ‘ _ Now, for some shut eye…’  _ His body dropped on the bed. ‘ _ Glorious...glorious shut eye…’  _ He closed his eyes and let himself fall to sleep.

An easy sense of wakefulness fell over Robert. He opened his eyes and stretched. Several stiff joints popped, dispelling the last remnants of his discomfort. Robert stood and rolled his shoulders, vigor pounding through his heart. ‘ _ By the Heavens Above, but I feel good!’  _ Moving through several light stretches, he readied himself for the day ahead. Old scars and wounds tugged his flesh, and a dull ache groaned from his left arm. ‘ _ Hale’n hearty! Rested up an’ ready to get movin’!’  _ He popped to his feet and swiftly tied on his boots. Deftly grabbing his mace, Robert whistled and opened the door. 

The warm chatter of the people sounded clear and true, lifting Robert’s spirits. ‘ _ An’ seems a proper good mornin’ too!’  _ He holstered his mace on his belt hook and strolled down the stairs. Leah stood near a far table, speaking amiably to a family of displaced townsfolk and a strikingly decrepit old man. Several books and scrolls tested over his thin frame, and a remarkably bushy grey beard fell over his comfortable and rich looking robes. ‘ _ Man looks older’n a rock…’  _ Lyndon sat before the bar, talking quietly with a portly man polishing a mug. Many families and peoples clamored around the inn. Robert blinked and processed the sight. ‘ _ Almost like the whole damn town’s here…’  _ Shaking himself, he smiled and moved into the common floor.

Apologies and pardons followed his trail towards the bar. He stopped and called hesitantly. “Bron? That you?”

The portly man glanced aside and held a finger up. Robert nodded and leaned himself against the counter. Whistling a simple tune, he gazed over the crowd. ‘ _ Some peoples I recognize. Lots I don’t. More smiles’n frowns.’  _ Triumphant pride flashed through him. ‘ _ S’good. Mean’s I’ve been doin’ my job right!’  _ A man cleared his throat beside him. “Aye, I’m Bron.” Robert turned and smiled. “You’re that Kasalis fellow, ain’t ya? What c’n I do fur ya?”

“Aye, that’d be me. I’d like somethin’ to eat, if you’d kindly.” He dug around his belt for his pouch. “Something I can eat on the move, if you could. How much for a breakfast.”

Shaking his head, Bron smiled and turned. “Aw, naw. Soldiers eat fur free right now.” His hands ghosted about the pantry area, assembling a small bundle. “Can’t hardly charge’ya fur savin’ our hides.” He turned and deposited a bundle. “Hardtack, bit’a cheese, and slice of salted pork. Should see ya right proper.”

“Well...thankee Bron.” Robert grinned happily and scooped up the bundle. “I’ll be sure to start payin’ like everyone else jus’ as soon as this undead problem’s put to rest.” 

Bron guffawed and waved his hand. “I’ll hold ya to it then!” He turned and resumed speaking to Lyndon. Nudging his way gently through the crowd, Robert worked his way to the door. Biting deeply into the cheese, he stopped a moment and groaned. ‘ _ Damnation! But that’s good! Best to eat it slowly...savor it awhile.’  _ He nibbled the hard cheese, savoring the rich flavor. ‘ _ Time to eat an’ earn my keep.’ _ He pushed through the door. 

A chilly and rainy draft pummeled down. Robert scoffed and staggered back. Blinking fiercely he righted himself. ‘ _ Right. Rains here. A lot.’  _ He shook his head and strode out. ‘ _ Only gotta move ‘neath it for a bit, then I’ll be on the palisade.’  _ A soft whistling tune escaped him. Robert grinned around the sound, walking happily through the rain. His steps tread through the perpetually muddy soil. Calm cold wind brushed by. Robert popped his neck and continued. He glanced up, scanning the horizon. ‘ _ Jus’ one person on tha west wall...hrmm.’  _ Scratching his head, he broke into a jog. ‘ _ Feel like there should be another lad up there. Two people on watch, at least.’  _ A slight grimace tugged his lips. ‘ _ Not safe with jus’ the one.’  _ Clearing his throat, he hollered. “Ho! You on the watch?”

The man flinched and turned. A boyish face and lanky frame greeted him. The boy brushed back his auburn hair and tightened his grip on the simple spear he wielded. “H-ho there! Who’s...yes! I’m on watch.” He rubbed his face vigorously. “Who’s you?”

Robert smirked and ascended the simple ladder. “Name’s Kasalis, lad.” He quirked a brow and looked him up and down. “Form’s a bit off there.” A sudden melancholy wracked his features. Robert spoke quickly. “Hold now! Not sayin’ you’re bad.” A bright smile crossed his face. “Sayin’ I’ll give ya some pointers if ya like.” 

Perking visibly, the boy nodded. “O-Oh! Aye! Aye I’d like that sir!” He extended his hand. “Roger! M’name’s Roger.”

Robert laughed and gripped his hand.  _ ‘Bit of a limp grip...not much used ta swinging stuff, eh?”  _ A gentle squeeze reaffirmed his assumption. ‘ _ Hmm. Give ‘im a hammer, tell ‘im to swing it about a while. That’ll right that.’  _ Robert shook his hand and dropped it, placing his own upon his hips. “Well, if you’d like my advice, I’d tell ya to stand more like this.” He shifted his weight, feigning holding a spear. “Lower yourself down. Get ya ready to spring. Strong foot back, angle yourself over your pole.” A simple stance overtook him. Roger emulated him, body uneasily assuming the same stance. “Good. Back foot back a bit. Angle your chest a bit left...there! Atta lad, your a natural!” He twisted his palms around his imaginary spear. “Hold it like so...and thrust with your weight. Punch right on through jus’ about anythin’.” 

Roger grinned and followed Robert’s movements, exuberant energy overcoming his feeble nature. The two moved through a variety of movements and actions, working their bodies thoroughly. After a time, a familiar voice called over the rain. “Kasalis!” Robert turned. Leah waved and trot through the rain. “Kasalis, I wanted to introduce you to my uncle! You haven’t been around much, and I’d like you to meet him.”

Robert nodded and stretched himself. “A’right. I’ll hop on down and join ya in jus’ a second.” He turned and gestured to Roger. “Stretch yourself a bit. Cool down. And don’t forget to practice often.” The boy nodded eagerly and fumbled his way through several stretches. A soft chuckle rumbled Robert’s chest. ‘ _ Ah, but he’s tryin’ hard. Good lad.’  _ Shaking his head, he jogged and descended the ladder. His stride brought him alongside Leah, who moved with him. “A’right, so this uncle’a yours…”

Leah nodded and grinned. “Yes! My uncle Deckard!” Familial pride warmed her voice. “He’s a well known scholar, and even a bit of a philosopher at times.” Robert grimaced. ‘ _ Right. A scholar. Can write an’ all that…’  _ A firm shake dispelled his angry grumbling a. “He’s in the inn pouring over one of his old tomes right now.”

Robert smiled and stopped at the door. He opened it and allowed Leah to enter before him. “I can’t wait to meet ‘im then.”

“Well, you won’t have to wait long.” Leah practically bounced into the common room. “Uncle! I brought Kasalis.” 

The decrepit man Robert saw earlier turned and squinted. His emerald eyes sparkled. “Ah! The Crusader! Good.” He gripped a gnarled old staff and stood. “My name is Deckard Cain. I see you have already met my niece Leah.” Voice soothing and dry, he extended his palm. “It is a joy to meet you.”

Robert clasped the old man’s palm and tightened his grip slightly. Aged, tough fingers gripped him back. ‘ _ A tough ol’ geezer, then. Sure don’t look the part though.’  _ Robert gestured and seated himself nearby. “Same. So you wanted to meet up with me?”

Deckard nodded and lowered himself. “Yes, my friend. I know…” A soft grunt accompanied him settling in his seat. “...a small bit about your order. For instance, I know that you all seek redemption, and that you are mighty warriors.” His hands rested on a large leather-bound tome. 

Robert laughed and nodded. “Aye. We’s seekin’ redemption of a sort. Mighty warriors…” He shrugged pseudo-humbly. “...Well, you’s truly to judge that?”

Deckard grinned and leaned back in his chair. “I only say what I have heard. The only other thing I know of your order is your strange ‘apprenticeship’. That you would take up the mantle and name of your mentor upon their death.” Robert froze, grin growin suddenly brittle. ‘ _ Mother...died…’ _ Memories flashed before him. _ a sunny day. Horrible goatmen. Burying family alone in the sun.  _ Deckard’s eyes widened.!“Oh! I meant no offense!” Deckard raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to bring painful memories up. I’m sorry, my dear boy.” A soft self-deprecating laugh shook him. Leah stood behind her uncle and tenderly gripped his shoulder. “Please forgive me. I do get so roused when meeting new people.”

Robert swallowed and shook his head. “Ah...no...no…” Forcing down his gut reaction, he smiled crookedly. “Like ya said, jus’ bad memories...Jus’...bad memories…”

Deckard steepled his fingers and sighed. “Oh, thank you, my boy.” He idly adjusted an inkwell and quill. “Now...I would dearly love to interview you, and record the information.” 

“Uncle…” Leah squeezed softly. “What about your prophecy?” Robert narrowed his eyes. ‘ _ Prophecy? That don’t sound good…’  _

Deckard blinked and pulled back. “Oh! Yes.” He tapped the book before him. “There is a troubling prophecy I would love to speak with you about. If...you would not mind sitting a while and listening to an old man.”

Robert grinned and folded his arms. “Speak away, old man. I’d be happy to stay awhile.” 

A brilliant gleam shone in Deckard’s eyes. “Wonderful!” He leaned forward and scrutinized the tome. “Now...I’ve only deciphered a small part of this prophecy, and it is rather wordy…” A short pause stretched between them. “...so I’ll just tell you the important parts.” He cleared his throat and met Robert’s gaze. “It speaks of a falling star, brilliant and burning blue.” A sinking weight settled over Robert’s gut. ‘ _ Could be coincidence…’  _ Deckard grinned grimly. “A coincidence, surely? But it also speaks that the dead would rise in the wake of this star, and that the followers of Hell would rally to the crater.” He paused briefly. “The crater that ‘Shattered the faith of man’.” Robert chewed his lip and nodded. ‘ _ Alright, so not a coincidence…’  _ Deckard stroked his beard and hummed. “Yes, I can see it in your eyes. The troubling questions: What comes next, and what do we do?” Hesitation crossed his weathered face. “...I am still unsure on that, but I do know that the prophecy speaks of mighty heroes braving the deeps. That, my dear boy, could easily be you.”

Sour, bilious thoughts bubbled up. ‘ _ Oh, a chance to be a great hero, snatched away by that Northman an’ eight militiamen? Bloody fantastic…’  _ He sighed heavily and shook his head. “Now, I would love…”

The door of the inn thundered open. The sudden wet gale silenced the crowd. A bloodied man stumbled inside. ‘ _ Rumford? What…’  _ Rumford coughed and collapsed, heaving deep and desperate breaths. “Att...we…”

Robert sprung to his feet, striding swiftly. Leah followed a heartbeat after. Kneeling down beside him, Robert clasped his back. “Steady man! Steady!” He called forth a small burning palm of healing light and massaged it in. “Deep breaths. What’s the matter?”

Rumford gulped and shook violently. “We...I...the others…” Leah gripped his shoulders and met his eyes. Rumford inhaled sharply and blinked. “We...we were overrun!” Seething fury ignited in Robert’s heart. “I don’t know what happened to the others. Dragnarik told me to throw down my weapon and run. To run and not look back.” Rumford rubbed his eyes furiously. “And I did! Akarat forgive me...I broke the warriors oath! I’m…”

Robert gripped the man’s cheek and turned it to face him. “No. No you're not an oathbreaker.” Rumford glanced up through teary eyes. “You followed his orders. You got back to town. Now…” He pat the man’s shoulder. “We can go back there. Patch yourself up and get re-armed. We’s savin’ that lot.” 

Leah hesitantly looked between the two. “...Akarat preserve you...I don’t like it. I don’t like it, but it has to be done. You...you guys promise to be safe, alright.” She nodded and walked away. “I’ll prepare rations.”

Robert nodded and stood, offering Rumford a hand. “Come on Daniel. Up an’attem.” Rumford took his hand. “We’ve got friends to save.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the extremely long delay, I've been going through a bit. A sincere thanks to any who stuck through and believed in this story. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently in the coming future, but I'm not sure. Regardless, thank you to those reading this and I hope you have a good day.

The small band of warriors marched under oppressive rain. Grim determination steeled their nerves and pushed them onwards. No banter passed between them. No soft words or encouragement warmed their hearts. Worried gulps and jittering nerves betrayed their fear. An unspoken question seemed to hang in the air:  _ If that group of nine were overrun...what chance do we have? _

Robert rolled his shoulders, glancing over the assembled party. Rumford and another militiaman named Morgan followed him uneasily. Morgan’s eyes flicked hesitantly around, worry and fear made obvious. Her boyish features scrunched and relaxed alongside some inner war within. Alice’s fleeting shadow trailed alongside them, weaving soundlessly through the forest. Lyndon held a simple crossbow on the group's right. He vigilantly scanned the underbrush, eyes sharp and focused. Robert huffed and kept marching. ‘ _ Didn’t think that rogue would  _ dare _ put himself in danger.’  _ His petulant words soured his gut. ‘ _ But...I mean...he  _ did _ offer to help out right quick…’  _ He rolled his shoulder again, accomplishing nothing. ‘ _...maybe he’s jus’ waitin’ for the scrap to start so he can run away. Yeah. That’s it…’  _ A shake of his head dispelled the traitorous thoughts. ‘ _ Bah. Bah! Nothin’ for it. Onwards or backwards, an’ I’m not about to back down.’  _

A sharp, high whistle caught his attention. He glanced at Alice’s silhouette. The demon hunter crouched within a bush and held a finger up. ‘ _ Wants us to wait?’ _ She vanished from sight. Robert groaned and signaled a halt. “Alice’s scoutin’. We needa hold up a minute.” Uneasy shuffles sounded behind him. Robert grimaced. ‘ _ Don’t I sound sure...can’t hardly blame ‘em for bein’ nervous.’ _ His fingers clenched over his mace, and he flexed his shield arm. ‘ _ Leader sounds like a green-horned kid...got some kinda demon gal takin’ up our flank...An’ to top it off, it’s rainin’.’ _ Robert groaned and rolled his head. ‘ _ It’s  _ always  _ rainin’...’ _

Several long moments passed under the rain. A distant bellow echoed under the ever-present rain. Shivers wracked the party. ‘ _ Don’t much like the sound’a that. Almost sounded like a goat…’ _ Lyndon whistled quietly. Robert glanced aside and met his eyes. The rogue spoke softly, visage concerned and steely. “Should we be worried about her? I don’t like the sound of…” He looked away and gently stroked his facial hair. “...Whatever that was.”

Robert chewed his lip and glanced down. “...No, I don’t think we need’a be worried.” He rolled his shoulders and straightened his back. “She’s right fast, and you’ve seen how she moves.” A sniff scrunched his nose. “‘Least, I think she’s gonna be a’right.” He laughed humorlessly. “I mean,  _ I  _ wouldn’t wanna fight ‘er. Don’t imagine nothin’ else would either.”

Lyndon nodded. “Right. Most reassuring.” He sighed and looked over his crossbow. “I’ll just have to take your uncertain word for it.” 

“Oi now…” Robert scowled and dug his heel. “I’m tryin’ my best, a’right?” An instinct pushed him to spit. He reigned it in long enough to lift his helmet. “I’m in the dark here too, rogue. I don’t know shite.”

A heavy sigh rattled Lyndon’s chest. “Bugger, but you’re a bore.” He shook his head and smirked. “That was a joke. Sorry about that, but I get a tad bit sardonic in stressful situations.” Lifting his crossbow, he aimed down the simple iron sights. “I’ll try and reign it in for you.” A devilish grin split over his features. “No promises, though.” 

Robert frowned and stretched his neck. A scathing retort built and died in his throat. Waving his hand dismissively, he buzzed his lips. ‘ _ Not worth it. Not worth it.’  _ He shifted on his heel, digging his frustration into the mud. “Well...yeah. You do that.” Irritation tickled his spine. ‘ _ Don’t I sound menacing and competent…’  _ Lyndon shook his head and chuckled. “Keep that…’sardonic’ shite well away from me.” A cold shiver traveled his body. “Don’t well like it. Think we can all do without.” 

Rumford and Morgan exchanged worried looks. Hesitant mumbles traveled between them. Lyndon quirked a brow and shrugged. “As you wish.” The man lowered his crossbow and returned to scanning the woods.

Robert paused, staring holes in the back of his head. Lyndon sniffed and rubbed his nose. ‘ _ Why the nerve…’  _ His conscience tugged him. ‘ _ I’m jus’ askin’ ‘im to shut up…’  _ Bitter laughter harried the dark corners of his mind, mocking and harsh. ‘ _ How dare he do as I’d like...makes me feel like the bad guy. Which I’m certainly not, thank you.’  _ He folded his arms and sighed, glancing away. ‘ _ Why does he get under my skin so? Every little thing he does makes me mad.’  _ A heavy sigh whispered under the rain. ‘ _ Mother’d know. She’d tell me all ‘bout what to do…’  _

Another sharp and quiet whistle sounded from the group’s left. Robert snapped his head up and met Alice’s gaze. The demon hunter ghosted alongside the group, speaking softly. “Khazra. A small band of four, straight ahead.” Evil menace burned in her baleful eyes. “They were preparing an ambush. I dissuaded them.” A small grin tugged her lips. “Surprising what several arrows from the night will do to someone’s courage.” 

Robert nodded and tapped his mace. “Aye. Thankee for that, Alice.” He popped his neck and continued marching on. The demon hunter melded back into the shadows. Lyndon, Rumford and Morgan stirred themselves and followed him. The daunting air pressed firmly, drowning out light and warmth. Robert snarled and pressed on. Stoking his fervent hate, he shoved the paranoia aside. ‘ _ I’ll strike ‘em down. I’ll get our folks back or get them some righteous vengeance.’  _ Boiling anger steeled him. ‘ _ Light have mercy on those fiends. I sure as the Burning Hells won’t.’  _ A strange flicker danced over his heart. Strength dribbled away in an imperceptible trickle. Robert coughed and shuddered. ‘ _ Akarat’s teeth, but this place is evil. Sappin’ the strength right outta me.’  _

A hill pushed out from the distant woods. The ruined old cathedral of Tristram rested among the tall pine and oak. A malevolent premonition hung in the air. Chill gusts stripped away warmth, and the heavy rain dulled the senses. Lyndon grumbled unhappily. Tension permeated the air, wafting in droves from the militiamen behind them. Robert shook himself, willing the building weakness away. ‘ _ Blasted, damned...this ain’t the time for gettin’ soft.’  _ Straightening his spine, he turned about and faced the gathered group. ‘ _ Need some words’a inspiration. Reassurance.’  _ Robert cleared his throat and nodded. “Right. I know this seems right awful, and the weather sure ain’t helpin’ us.” He turned his head back to the cathedral. “But...but we got folks in there to help out. Those…” His palms tightened. “...those... _ fiends,  _ have done somethin’ to our people. They might still be alive...they might be dead…” 

Rolling his shoulder, he turned back. Rumford and Morgan met his gaze worriedly. Lyndon’s face seemed carved of stone. Alice watched impassively. A lump formed in his throat. ‘ _ Come on...can’t end like that…’  _ Robert planted his shield tip in the muddy soil. “I tell ya here an’ now...I am  _ not  _ gonna let that go unanswered.” He withdrew his shield hand and clasped it over his heart. “I’m prayin’ to Akarat their alive, but I don’t know.” Licking his lips, he paused briefly. “If they are, we  _ are  _ gettin’ ‘em outta there. If they aren’t, we will bring  _ burning _ vengeance on them.” He thumped his chest, anxiety burning away. “Those swine took our people...they are  _ not  _ gettin’ away with it!” His hand fell alongside him and clenched tightly. “They waltzed in here...they are profanin’ our holy ground! Even if you don’t care about that...even if you think our  _ holy _ nonsense is jus’ a buncha noise…” He gripped his shield firmly, nodding at Lyndon. “Disrespectin’ the dead ain’t right! They’re defilers, through an’ through! They got what’s comin’ to ‘em!” He took his shield back up. “And what comin’ is us. Today, we getta be the Light’s vengeance! We’re the heroes today! So steel your hearts! Say your oaths or grit your teeth!” Robert turned and rolled his shoulders. “We’s goin’ in there…” He thrust his hammer forth. “...And Akarat as my witness, we are gonna make them pay! Let’s get in there.” Squaring his shoulders, Robert strode forth. Footsteps followed him. No one spoke, but a vigorous spark danced between them. ‘ _ Not feelin’ so cowed at least. That’s ‘bout all I can ask for.’ _

Robert marched along the old path. Ancient, broken lumber jut from the earth. His nerves conjured drifting shadows, weaving around the abandoned town. Old buildings creaked in the rain. A short peal of thunder rumbled in the south. ‘ _ First thunder I’ve heard round here…’  _ He pressed forward, stifling the screaming instincts urging him to run. ‘ _ I’ll not fear them. I’ll not fear  _ anything.’ The old ruin loomed high overhead. An involuntary shudder wracked his spine. Robert glanced back and looked over the determined faces behind him. Nodding, he threw the old doors open.

The old ruin creaked under the oppressive rain. Scattered pews and broken stone cast shadows on the ancient walls. Robert sniffed and raised his shield. “Rumford, Morgan, on me.” Walking cautiously along the ruined carpet, he flicked his gaze around. “Pick a side, stay two strides behind me. Alice, Lyndon..” He shrugged. “I’m not familiar with ‘ow you lot do things. Jus’ watch your flanks, and don’t get  _ too _ far ahead.” His fingers clenched and relaxed. “Sound like a plan?”

A small chorus of agreement steadied his faltering courage. ‘ _ Now then, they’s expectin’ a brave an’ noble leader…’  _ He swallowed the lump forming in his throat. ‘ _ Ain’t perticularly noble...an’ I don’t know ‘bout brave…’  _ His feet ferried him closer to the crater. ‘ _ Damnation...but I’m not really suited for it…’  _ A lump of cold fear nestled in his gut. ‘ _ But...but they don’t need’a know that...yeah...jus’ gotta act the part. Right.’  _ Dank, musty air wafted from the crater’s depths. A well worn ladder led down. Robert inhaled sharply, and mounted the ladder. 

Arriving on the ancient stony floor, Robert stepped forward and paused. After the last pair of feet hit the floor, he marched forth and glanced around the corners. Menacing darkness crowded around. Shifting his weight uneasily, Robert crept forth. His shield stood tall and proud before him, steady despite his disquieted mind. Far off chatter rose and quieted, echoing down the old halls. 

Narrowing his eyes, Robert walked forth. The musty air tickled his nose. Soft clangs sounded from his sabatons. A hand perched on his shoulder. Robert glanced aside. Alice lowered her palm and knocked an arrow. “Lyndon and I will scout ahead. We don’t want to alert them early.”

“Agreed. Much better to have the drop on  _ them _ .” The rogue affirmed quietly. “I’ll take the right hall, you take this one?”

Alice nodded. “Let’s do it.” Robert pursed his lips and nodded. Stepping back, he let her move ahead. She turned and glance back. “If you hear fighting, shouting, or any other unsettling noises, I would appreciate a swift response.” Assuming a crouched stance, she continued down the hall. “We don’t know what is down here, after all.”

Lyndon sniffed and loaded his crossbow. “I’ll second that.” His feet padded silently down the other hall. “Don’t fancy dying in a crypt. Far too ironic for my tastes.”

Robert watched the two depart, readying himself for action. The two figures drifted further, entering the deep shadows. Rumford walked up and nervously tapped his foot. “You...you really think we’ll be okay? I mean…”

Robert set his mace down and turned. Rumford pursed his lips. “Daniel...you listen to me, a’right?” A short pause passed between them. Breathing deep, Rumford nodded. “We will be fine. We’re soldiers’a the light.” Robert gripped his shoulder. “Akarat’s watchin’ over us. Always is, but he looks favorably on soldiers.” He squeezed gently. More mutters echoed the ancient halls. “We’re out here for our kin. Not glory. Not anger.” Robert grimaced and shook his head. ‘ _ Maybe  _ you’re _ not, ‘least…’ _ Tremors shook his chest. ‘ _...Damnation...but I  _ am  _ angry.’  _ Retracting his hand, he lifted his helm and smiled. “Say your oaths, friend. Steel your heart.  _ Whatever _ these friends are stirrin’ up.  _ Whatever _ dark magics an’ wretchedness they’s got…our faith’ll carry us through.” Robert snapped his helmet down and retrieved his mace. “You’re trainin’ to be a priest, right? Keeper’a holy words and knowledge?”

Rumford nodded, smiling slightly. “Aye...aye, I am. Been studying for years now.” Setting his spear aside, he sheepishly scratched his head. “Thought I told you that already…”

“Aye, ya did.” Robert leaned himself back, resting against the old walls. “Only bringin’ it up cause I’m  _ sure _ there’s a passage somewheres that talks ‘bout this.” 

Rumford blinked and drew back. His jaw worked soundlessly. Several moments passed before he grinned wide. “I think you’re right friend.” Morgan walked closer, remaining silent. Rumford cleared his throat and clasped his hands. “The Book of Valor: Section Three, Chapter six, paragraph five; ‘Know always in thy heart courage. Heaven’s Light shall shine upon those with courage. And the Light shall shine upon they with honor. And the Light shall shine upon they who shed blood in the name of kin.’” Rumford cleared his throat and breathed deeply. “‘All they who would do battle as such hold the favor of Valor, and the approval of Heaven.’ I...I have always liked that one.” 

Robert smiled wide and nodded. “That sounds a right good saying.” He laughed softly. “ _ I _ like it plenty, leastwise.”

“It sounds good’ta me.” Morgan chimed. A small smile curved her lips. “Always liked havin’ Heaven’s approval.”

A soft chuckle eased the tightness over Robert’s chest. “Don’t we all?” He paused a breath and continued. “‘Ceptwise those heathens we needa look after.” Rumford cracked a smirk. “Don’t imagine they much care.”

Rumford righted himself and gripped his armaments. “No, I don’t imagine they would.” Stretching his neck around the corner, he spoke softly. “So Kasalis...do you have any favorite verses?”

A cold lance stabbed his heart. “Ah, no.” He stared ahead. ‘ _ Not my fault I never gotta read the scriptures…”  _ Itchy tears threatened his eyes. “Ain’t got no favorites.” He sniffed and shook his head. ‘ _ Not my fault…’  _

Morgan spoke up. “I’ve got a favorite!” She cleared her throat and inclined her head. “The Book of Fate, Section Three, Chapter One, Paragraph One: ‘All they that reside under the Light shall be resolved.’” A warm blush softened her anxious features. “‘Let none beneath the Light lament, for the Light is merciful as the Hells are vengeful. Gird thy heart in iron, and complete thy works with fervor, that thou might ever serve Heaven.’” Morgan perked up and beamed. “Always jus’... _ spoke _ to me, y’know?” Her spear hand loosened its grip and gesticulated. “Gotta toughen up and get  _ movin’  _ ta do any good.”

Robert nodded and grinned beneath his helmet. “Aye! I like that one too.” Tapping his heel, he whistled quietly. “Lots’a good words. Let’s us live up to ‘em, eh?” Firm nods passed about the group. Robert smiled wide. ‘ _ Good. Good...By Akarat’s shiny teeth, I could get to like these folks.’  _ Sighing pleasantly, he rested his back against the wall. ‘ _ Maybe even those heathen types. Not really so bad, bein’ honest.’  _

The three warriors shifted and stretched uneasily. Several long moments passed uneventfully. Robert folded his arms and whistled softly, distracting his errant mind. Morgan tapped her heels and shuffled around the entrance. Rumford stood between the two. A tranquil calm radiated from the scholar-warrior. Soft and meaningless conversation continued. Occasionally, a far off echo would sound, rattling down the ancient halls. 

Robert chewed his lip and readjusted his stance. A dull, cold ache built beneath his muscles. Controlled flexation worked some of the tension away. “Coming back in!” Lyndon’s voice carried out. “Don’t kill me.” The three warriors turned and watched the fork. Lyndon crept around the corner and knelt nearby. “Alright...where to begin…” A shaky hand stroked his goatee. “First of all, that northman was right. This is serious.” 

Robert stood tall and rolled his shoulders. “Kinda figured.” He chuckled softly and planted his shield. “So what’s the damage?”

Lyndon barked a laugh and shook his head. “Damage, huh?” He grinned wryly. “That might honestly be  _ too  _ soft a word for it.” Clearing his throat, he set aside his crossbow. “This place is a labyrinth. And it is  _ full _ of skeletons.” A small shiver shook him. “I mean  _ hordes _ of the damned things. And for every thirty walking corpses there’s a hooded looney.” He sighed dramatically. “And, you lot should put on your hero caps. I think I’ve found our friends.”

Robert grit his teeth. “What? Where!?” His palm clenched. “I swear on…”

“Hold! Heaven’s knickers, man.” Lyndon raised his hand and shook his head. “Calm down the zealotry, just a tad. Please.” He hung his head and sighed. “I said I  _ think _ I’ve found them.” A heavy sigh wheezed from him. “There is a room the loonies are trying to break into, and I heard them talking about ‘invaders’ and that something would make short work of them. so, yes. We do need to be moving.” His left pointer jutted up. “But! We need to make sure  _ we _ don’t find ourselves in the same situation. So!” He popped up. “Let’s make a plan, rather than rushing blindly.” 

Robert groaned and dropped his head back. His helmet clacked against the stone wall. “Fine, fine, let’s do a plan then.” He bit his lip and turned aside. “I say we be fast about it though. Don’t much fancy leaving people to their tender mercys…”

Rumford spoke up. “I have to agree. I don’t like leaving people.” Morgan nodded.

“Not to worry, my devout friends!” A grin split Lyndon’s features. “I’ve already got a plan. Really, I think you’ll all like it.” He cleared his throat and stood. “In all honesty, it is essentially the ‘hit them here and now’ plan, but with a _bit_ a more finesse.” Robert tilted his head. “Oh yes, I have no delusions about our little group’s strengths. So that means we are going to wait for Alice to get back, split into two groups, and hit them fast and hard.” Lyndon fished about in his pockets. “Now where the devil...Ah!” His hand flicked out, bearing a small stick of chalk. “Now, we are here.” He tapped the wall, immediately drawing several lines. A rough diagram of corridors and rooms slowly materialized. Lyndon marked a room. “This is where I saw the most skeletons, and this…” He drew a larger rectangle and tapped it. “Is where that little siege is happening. So what I recommend is that me and Alice go…” His chalk traced a side route. “...This way, while the rest of you form a little shield wall and approach from the front. Me and Alice will provide ranged support while you all charge heroically or what have you.” He turned back and quirked a brow. His eyes flicked down the hall. “Any objections?”

Robert struck his shield and popped his neck. “None. Let’s get us in there and save them folks.” 

Morgan swallowed a lump and nodded. “I’m good here. Let’s do it.” Rumford chewed his lip and nodded.

Another voice chimed from the hallway. “I agree.” Robert flinched and readied his mace. Pale yellow eyes watched from the shadows. Attempting to raise their weapons, Rumford and Morgan fumbled and cursed. Lyndon rubbed his eyes. 

Adrenaline crashed and fell. “Damnation, Alice!” He pressed his hand to his hammering heart. “Give some warning, would ya!?”

Heels clacked against stone, and Alice sauntered into the dim light. An impressive pout tugged her lips. “But your reactions are just so  _ fun.”  _ She cleared her throat and adopted a more serious expression. “Anyway, I am ready and able.”

“...wondered when you lot would notice her…” Lyndon shook himself and grabbed his crossbow. “Right! On to heroics then.” A rueful chuckle shook him. “Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

Robert smiled beneath his helmet and thumped Lyndon’s shoulder. “Chin up! We’re doing a great and righteous thing!” Lyndon groaned and shook his head. “Ah, it’s not so bad. Even if we fail, the Light is with us!”

“Goodie.” He remarked darkly. “Always wanted to be Martyred…”


	48. Chapter 48

Robert shifted his weight, pulling his heavy shield before him. He flicked his gaze back, looking his allies up and down again. Morgan and Rumford stood a full pace behind him on either side, gripping their spears and shields nervously. ‘ _ Can’t blame ‘em. This place sure is given  _ me  _ a sour feelin’.’  _ He tapped his shield lightly, gathering their attention. “A’right. Now, I know you both have experience with the militia, but how much actual fightin’ have you done?”

Morgan cleared her throat. “I’ve been in a few brawls, and repelled a Khazra raid a‘few years back.” A hesitant smile spread over her jaw. “So...a bit?”

Rumford nodded and tapped his fingers repeatedly. “I’ve...I've not been in any real fights. Only a short fist-fight.”

Robert grit his teeth. ‘ _ Damnation. Greenhorns.’  _ He shook his head. ‘ _ Nothing to be done for it. Onward or backward.’  _ Breathing deep, he resumed his stance. “Right. Then I want you two to stay right where you are, proddin’ and stabbin’ things what try’n surround us.” He pressed his shield to his right shoulder and popped the stiff joint. “Don’t worry ‘bout killin’ things. I’ll take care’a that. Jus’ worry ‘bout keepin’ me and yourselves safe.” Nervous nods greet him. ‘ _ Better’n nothin’, I s’pose.’  _ He turned and nodded. “A’right. We wait another minute, then get a move on. Lyndon an’ Alice ought’a be gettin’ in position ‘bout then.” 

Rumford nodded hesitantly. “Right. Yes.” Deep, heavy breaths steadied him. Morgan shifted from heel to heel. Robert turned to the hall and planted his shield. ‘ _ Akarat, holy father of the Light, give me strength.’  _ He lowered his head. ‘ _ Grant me courage, and the determination to keep these folks safe.’  _ A small sense of peace warmed him. ‘ _ For my Oaths, and my vows, give me the strength to complete your works.’  _ He paused and licked his lips. ‘ _...and if the worst should come to pass...give these folks the speed to get away. Amen.’  _

Tightening his mace grip, he raised his head and looked defiantly down the corridor. Distant creaks and clattering steps sounded. “So. You all said your vows?” Robert spoke softly. “Won’t be time to say ‘em later.”

“Yessir!” Morgan nodded enthusiastically. “Said my Oaths too.”

Rumford nodded. “Yes. I’ve reaffirmed.” He coughed quietly and looked away. “...I still don’t feel the blessing though…”

Robert tilted his head. “You don’t?” Rumford mumbled a negative. “Don’t get a little warm glow when ya reaffirm?”

“No. I never have.” A sour smirk pushed up his lip. 

Morgan quirked a brow. “You don’t? I get this lil’...” She rubbed her fingers, and gesticulated. “...spark? Heat?” Shaking her head, she stopped and took her spear back up. “...don’t know how else to describe it.”

“S’like a little fire for me.” Robert tapped his chest. “Little burnin’ heart. S’how I know it’s workin’.”

Rumford chewed his lip and looked away. “Well...I don’t get any of that.” He shifted his weight uneasily. “Just...normalness. Nothing changes.”

Robert dug his heel and looked up. ‘ _ Nothin’? Is he not honest?’  _ Rolling his shoulders, he glanced down. ‘ _ Not pious? No...man knows his scriptures…’  _ He paused and blinked. ‘ _ Is he not doin’ it right? I mean...mother taught me how to…’  _ He popped his helmet up and met Rumford’s look. “Oi, Rumford.  _ What _ exactly do you  _ do _ when reaffirmin’?”

A curious expression crossed the smaller man. “Do? I… just…” He shrugged and spread his hands. “...Say the oaths. Speak the words and believe them.”

Grinning wide, Robert thumped Rumford’s shoulder. “ _ That’s _ what’s wrong! You’re not channelin’!”

Rumford screwed his eyes up. “Channeling? What…”

Robert licked his lips and pulled back. “Well ya see...ya jus’...” He gesticulated vaguely. “Gotta channel tha Light. Y’know...reach in and...channel it.” He moved to scratch his head. Mace thumped helmet and jarred his focus. “Don’t know how else…”

“S’like a little soul inside ya.” Morgan spoke up. “‘Ya gotta shush your brain an’ look inside.’, S’what my pa always told me.” She closed her eyes and grinned. “Look long enough an’...” Intense focus smoothed her visage. “...take hold of it, gentle like…an’...” She opened her eyes and extended her hand. A glowing warmth pulsed, covering it in a dull golden light. “...’Bring it to bear with a prayer’, like my pa always said.”

Robert nodded. “Aye, thanks. I’ve been doin’ it so long…” He reached in and channeled forth his power. A competitive impulse pressed it to his palm. Searing Light burned down his veins, forming a radiant sphere over his extended hand. “Jus’ comes naturally, I guess.” Smugness crept in his voice. “Learned when I was five.” He turned back and smirked. 

Morgan shut her jaw and blinked rapidly. “...That!” Excitement bubbled through her. “I’ve never seen anythin’ like that! That was...amazing! Awesome!”

Rumford worked his jaw silently. A firm glint sharpened his eyes. He nodded and looked down. Intense concentration locked his body firmly in place. 

Robert released the power. Concern tugged his brows. “Be careful now…” He licked his lips and reached a tentative hand out. “It...it hurts a bit to use...burns…”

Rumford yelped and jumped back. His spear clattered to the ground. Morgan stepped forward. “Heaven’s Above! Dammit that hurt!” He rubbed his chest tenderly. “By the shining Heaven’s above, that burns!” A skeptical glance passed over his companions. “And you just...  _ do  _ that!?” 

“Well...yeah…” Robert shrugged and looked away. “Hurts a bit, but that’s jus’ how you know it’s workin’...”

Morgan set her spear aside and gripped Rumford’s shoulder. “Yeah...pain’s jus’ a part’a service.” She chuckled hesitantly. “Light can’t jus’ be handin’ strength all willie nillie...S’gotta…” She rubbed his shoulder gently. “Make sure. Know you're dedicated.” Robert nodded mutely. ‘ _ Akarat’s Teeth, but she’s better at this than me…’  _

Rumford licked his lips and nodded. “That...I mean that makes sense…” He inhaled and shook his head. “But does it have to burn  _ so  _ badly?”

Robert perked up and nodded. “Aye. It does. Magic’s not somethin’ natural, like a muscle.” He flexed his arm and looked down it. “Works a lot the same though. Apothecary told me that. So I imagine since you’ve never used it…” He lowered his arm. “S’like workin’ a muscle you didn’t know ya had. And that  _ smarts.”  _ A lopsided grin poked under his helmet. “Trust me. I would know.”

Rumford pursed his lips and nodded, throwing a surly look aside. “I thought that heaven was supposed to be benevolent…” He kicked idly. “...kind, even.”

“Oh, it’s not so bad.” Robert clicked his helmet down. “Like Morgan said: Jus’ gotta make sure you’re on tha up’n up.” He clenched his jaw and glanced down the hallway. ‘’ _ bout time ta move. Best get onnit afore we lose our stomachs…’  _ His palms flexed. Turning fully, he faced the hall. “Anyhow...I think it’s time ta move.” His companions fell silent. Robert rolled his shoulders and stepped forward. “Come on now. We need’a get in position for the heathens.”

Morgan and Rumford approached and took up position alongside him. Shaky nods passed between them. The levity growing in the air withered and died. Robert grit his teeth and hefted his shield, readying it before him. ‘ _ Best to recite. Need the strength of Heaven more’n ever.’  _ His boots tapped a steady rhythm, accompanied by two lesser echoes. ‘ _ Haven’t been feelin’ so well, folks might get hurt...could use Hope ‘bout now.’  _ Buzzing his lips quietly, he shook his head. ‘ _ A’right.’  _ Robert channeled power, filling his heart with searing heat. ‘ _ Nurture in your heart compassion and peace.’  _ He exhaled heavily, allowing his tension to bleed away. ‘ _ Kill with heavy hand and heart.’  _ A twinging doubt worried his mind. His footsteps marched forward. ‘ _ Doubt not the righteousness of your cause.’  _ He nodded to himself. The burning power welled and swirled. ‘ _ Protect those who cannot protect themselves.’  _ Clattering bones echoed far away. Rumford’s breathing spiked. Robert grit his teeth. ‘ _ Judge others on character and merit.’  _ His thoughts pulled towards the foe and the Khazra. Slight tremors shook his hands. ‘ _ Practice mercy.’ _ Robert exhaled.

A warm surge of light filled his heart. Robert sighed in relief and shook himself. ‘ _ Ain’t that jus’ the thing!’  _ Grinning lighty, he rolled his shoulders and straightened himself. ‘ _ Nothin’ like a bit’a righteousness to perk ya right up.’  _ He focused himself and looked ahead. ‘ _ A’right! Time to deal with some evil-doers!’ _ Fingers dancing lightly over his mace, Robert cleared his throat. “Right. Let’s us get about about this.” He stepped forward. The dull, rasping clatters pulled around the corner. Several old, dry undead shambled into view.

Old, rusted iron lay draped over their frames. Notched swords of similar decrepit quality scraped the ground behind the creatures, and ancient cloth fluttered in their unsteady wake. Rumford squeaked a short cry. Robert grit his teeth and charged forth, the familiar mentality of battle sweeping over him.

His sabatons slammed down the old corridors. Undead skulls ground upon their necks and faced him. Robert pulled his shield tight to himself. Ancient weapons dragged up. Dry, brittle shields tucked to breastplates in a laughable mockery of discipline. Robert stepped a stride before the undead and dug his heel deep. Throwing his momentum fiercely through his shield, Robert channeled forth the warm light of Punishment. Steel met iron, and scattered the loosely bound bones far. Broken fragments splintered away. Twisting his hips, Robert swung his mace forward, striking the chest of another undead. Dry old bones capsized, falling soundlessly to the floor. 

Old iron struck ineffectually off his armor. Robert grunted and stepped back, drawing his shield before him. Dull thumps and scrapes rebounded harmlessly. Robert pulled his arm back and swung forward, crushing another undead to the floor. A blade sliced across his helmet, scattering his vision. Snarling fiercely, Robert tucked himself inward. Radiant power bubbled from within and filled his shield. Dreadful burning screwed his eyes shut. Slamming his shield forward, Robert simultaneously released the power. Brilliant light flashed in the halls. Undead bodies staggered back, tiny flames erupting over their forms. 

Robert swung forward, allowing a sword to clatter against his breastplate. A satisfying smack struck another fiend down. Robert flowed, hurling another well placed strike against the undead horde. More blades joined his foes. Rattling bones and creaking iron overwhelmed the hall. 

Heavy bodies pushed forward. Ringing strikes hammered him incessantly. Swinging arms and shoving shields choked his movement. Robert snarled and shoved mightily. A small gap opened in the undead ranks. Robert’s mace snaked out, striking a skull from its shoulders. Tugging his shoulder back, he crushed another chest before hunkering back over himself. 

Hammering sword swings clattered across his chest and head. Ringing metal dulled his senses. Robert thrust his body forward, turning powerfully from his hips. A forceful shove pushed the dry bones back. Robert struck forward, easily capsizing an undead chest. His hammer swung back and crumpled another skeleton. Swords scratched his armor. A blade cut in his elbow, drawing a ragged gash in his undershirt. Robert pushed forward, bringing steel onto a rusted helm. 

Spear points hesitantly prodded near his sides. Robert huffed. ‘ _ Gotta protect ‘em. Got people relyin’ on me.’  _ The weight of the walking dead pushed him. His shield jerked into place. A sword struck over his visor. An involuntary jerk stepped his right heel back. ‘ _ Not gonna let ‘em down.’  _ Painful stiffness built in his frame. Robert stepped forward, pushing forcefully into the horde. ‘ _ Not. Gonna.’  _ A blade slammed his helmet. Robert suppressed his instinct to back down. A vicious snarl steeled his nerves. Robert twisted his body, forcefully opening the horde. Steel lashed out. Broken bone scattered before him. Robert pulled his hammer back. Another skeleton clattered to the floor.

Dull, repetitive strikes numbed Robert’s mind. The incessant tide of combat washed over him, drowning rational thought and his sense of time. Robert pushed forward, clearing space with his shield. Pain roared through his back. Robert sounded his pain and fury, breaking more bones under an onslaught of vicious blows. Tireless, clumsy arms pushed him back. Rusted iron hammered his armor. Color blurred together, and a sharp ringing echoed in his ears. Robert rooted his heel and willed himself to stand straight. Reality refused to cooperate with him, and his vision twisted and danced.

Shoving his leg savagely, Robert pushed a gap in the undead. Ragged breaths hammered his lungs. Aching muscles burned and cried. His hammer slammed down, tremors barely checked by deep training. A blade slammed his neck. Robert coughed and sputtered. A mighty swing returned his stance and scattered more angry bones. Several sharp breaths steadied his fluttering throat. Robert blinked rapidly, reeling against the incessant tide. Shining stars shimmered before his eyes. Dreadful determination gnashed his teeth together. Robert steeled himself and threw his shield wide. 

A sorely overused tendon creaked. Bones fell. Steel arced down. Shattered remnants hit the floor, alight with golden flame. Steel surged up, throwing bone down the hall. Iron stabbed his metal hide, battering the sturdy flesh beneath. Exertion weighed him down and dulled his vigorous movements. Time drug onward. Shuddering breaths wracked his chest. Splintering pain filled his head. A single thought echoed.  _ Protect these people. Save them. _

Robert howled furiously and shoved his body forward, battering several undead aside. The searing pull in his gut swelled and grew. Robert drew his power up, filling his heart to bursting. Righteous power surged in his blood and thrummed in his marrow. ‘ _ Not enough. Not enough.’  _ Robert grit his teeth and hissed, pulling more might through his burning veins. ‘ _ Gotta keep ‘em safe...protect ‘em.’  _ Light pooled visibly under his armor, igniting the hallway. Sizzling flames of holy gold erupted on the skeleton’s ancient frames. Robert’s heart spasmed. Breath fled his lungs. Agony slammed down, pummeling his mind. ‘ _ Light above! Hear me!’  _ He called within his heart. ‘ _ Banish these fiends!’  _ A final surge of primordial energy welled within him. ‘ _ Destroy…’ _ Robert seized the overwhelming power. ‘... _ them…’  _ His will pulled forth his might. ‘ _ ALL!’  _ Robert threw the power wide.

A blinding flash scorched the hall. Light, nearly physical in its power, washed over the hallway. Brittle bones evaporated. Seething light scoured the halls, scorching away dust and fallen cloth. A hush fell over the small area.

Robert’s body collapsed. Pain clogged his mind. Sharp pain cut his heart. His breath caught and sputtered. Stinging lances accompanied his hammering heart. Every beat pricked him, sapping his strength. ‘ _ Light above…’  _ He groaned and pushed himself up. His pulse raced, and sharp pricks assailed his chest. Robert dropped his mace, clutching his heart and panting. He wrenched his head up, glancing over his companions. Rumford stood slack jawed, and Morgan worked her jaw silently. Relief crashed over him. Robert slumped over, resting on his hands and knees. 

Heavy breaths slowly stilled his hammering heart. A lancing pin remained, cutting his chest with every beat. ‘ _ Light above...no…this is bad…’  _ He brought his feet beneath him and stood. His right hand desperately sought the wall. Hands gripped his arm and shoulders. Concerned voices pecked him. Robert swallowed and set his shield point to the floor. ‘ _ Did I...did I get one’a those crystals in my heart?’  _ Leaning his weight over his sturdy bulwark, he straightened himself fully. Tired, angry muscles whined. His battered body roared sullenly. A sharp prick of fiery pain lanced his chest as his torso rose. Robert grit his teeth and waved absently. ‘ _ Bugger it all, I think I did...feck…’  _ The hands withdrew and the cacophonous questions died down. Clearing his throat, Robert spoke up. “You lot okay? No cuts? No breaks?” He kept his eyes trained forward, scanning the hallway before them. 

Rumford audibly straightened and answered. “Ye...yes.” He pat himself down swiftly. “I’m fine...no cuts or…” A shaky breath rattled his chest. “...or...or…”

Robert turned and looked the man up and down. Violent tremors shook the man, and hollowness sapped his face of color. His hands twitched. Robert heard his teeth chatter. ‘ _ Gettin’ the jitters. First time fightin’.’  _ Robert subdued his pain and set his hand on Rumford’s shoulder. ‘ _ Too much adrenaline. Too much stress. Handled it well, though. Tough man.’  _ Rumford glanced up and nodded. 

Robert cracked a grin and squeezed his shoulder. Setting his shield against himself, his left hand withdrew and removed his helmet. “Rumford. Look at me.” Two desperate orbs met his. “It’s alright. We got ‘em. It’s alright.” Kneading Rumford’s shoulder, he repeated his words softly. “All’s well. Ya did it. It’s alright.” The man’s shocked eyes softened and Robert grinned widely. “Ya did it, Rummy. Good on ya.”

Tension slowly burnt down. Slight tremors shook Rumford’s jaw. Robert continued muttering encouragement. His eyes darted to Morgan. The other warrior stood, leaning against the wall and tending a shallow gash. Meeting his look, she nodded and mouthed the words,  _ I’m alright. _ Rumford dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach and shaking. Kneeling alongside him, Robert cupped his cheek gently. “Hey now, stay with me.” Rumford turned aside and retched, slimy bile splattering across the floor. Chuckling softly, Robert shifted his hands and rubbed the shaken man’s back. “Aye, get ‘er out. Happens.” Several more dry heaves wracked his body. 

Continuing to pat his back, Robert glanced down the hallway. ‘ _ Nothin’. Good. Might be the last of ‘em.’  _ Sharp, lancing pin stole his breath. Robert grit his teeth and hissed. ‘ _ Damnation!’  _ Seizing his formidable will, Robert shoved the pain aside once more. “There there, Rummy.” Stability returning, Rumford nodded. “Atta lad. Doin’ great.” He stood and donned his helmet, left hand grabbing up his shield. “Take your time. We got a bit ta spare.”

Pushing upon his knees, Rumford stood. A shaky nod affirmed his status. “Than...thank you.” Fingers questing for hurts, he rubbed his chest. Robert scrutinized his limbs. Harsh, shallow wounds dotted his arms, and a colorful bruise peeked in his shoulder. A dark grimace crossed overtook him. ‘ _ Blast it. Those blades were rusty...he might catch the Lockjaw.’ _ A short hiss escaped Rumford. Robert steeled his nerves and approached. ‘ _ Need to clean the wounds, or heal them.’  _ Rumford took up his spear and straightened himself. “I think I will be alright, now.” 

Robert shook his head firmly. “No. Not yet, yer not.” He pat his belt, fingers clasping over his medical flask. The small leather weighed discouragingly light in his palm. ‘ _ Damnation...need to fill this thing soon.’  _ Robert gripped Rumford’s arm and drew it out. “Gotta clean these cuts. Can’t have ya catchin’ sick.” Deftly uncorking his flask, Robert nodded firmly. “You ready? It’s gonna sting like a Hellbat.”

Rumford swallowed and glanced down his arm. Gritting his teeth, he turned his head aside. “Yes. Just...do it quickly.” Robert tilted the flask and dribbled concentrated alcohol over the wounds. Rumford yelped and screwed his eyes shut. Swiftly brushing the wounds with his finger, Robert lowered the arm and grabbed his other. 

Several seconds and several yelps later, Robert winced and grit his teeth. ‘ _ Now the hard part…’  _ Channeling forth a small orb of power brought pain surging back. Piercing pricks spiraled from his heart. An uncomfortable heat warmed the abused organ. Rumford heaved a relieved sigh and spoke. The sounds blurred in his overtaxed mind.

Robert nodded and straightened himself. Sharp ringing rolled his head, and shimmering stars speckled his vision. ‘ _ Damn...Damnation...damn…’ _ Robert scooped up his hammer and tightened his shield straps. “A’right. Up an’ attem.” His own words sounded far off and indistinct. “Time’a go help those two. Count’n on us after all.” Robert walked forward. Sudden vertigo slammed him. Seething pins wracked his chest. Hacking coughs tore his throat, expelling bloody phlegm inside his helm. ‘ _ Shite.’  _ His feet marched on. Sharp pains dulled, burrowing deep in his body. ‘ _ Need’a getta move on. Falterin’ by the second...gotta finish the task.’  _

Several corners passed, revealing a sprawling clear area. Several large tombs dominated the near wall, and a number of robed people hovered around a hallway. Loose stone and broken wood formed a rudimentary, but effective, barricade. The far off wall loomed heavy, composed of carved stone and massive doors. ‘ _ Ah then. That would be our companions I s’pect.’  _ Buzzing his lips, Robert hefted his weapons. “A’right. Off we get then.” Morgan and Rumford stuttered. Robert marched out and slammed his mace against his shield. His voice roared out. “Come on, devil-scum!” Surprised heads whipped towards him. “Have at ya!” He spurred his feet onward.

A dark shaft whistled and ran home in one of the figure’s chests. Morgan and Rumford trot behind him, voicing their dismay. Robert thundered on. A robed figure stepped back, shouting violent curses. Hands weaved an unsteady pattern. Feathered wood slammed a yelping cultist. Robert howled the pain in his heart and slammed forward. Steel surged with righteous might and crushed bone. The figure collapsed in a heap, unmoving. 

A frantic cry tore his head aside. The final cultist cast down their arms and hit the floor. Quiet sobs and wheezing breath pushed into the floor. Robert’s heart wrenched. ‘ _ Givin’ up?’  _ A fierce snarl echoed in his helm. “Giving’ up!?” His boot lashed out and caught the man under his ribs. He tumbled over, hacking and coughing violently. Desperate flailing brought his limbs over his chest. His hands gripped his head and he cried. Words blubbering together, the man begged for mercy.

Bitter, horrible hatred rose in Robert’s heart and soared with every prick of pain. “You…” He pressed his boot over the man’s chest and pushed him over. “You think...think you…” Robert stopped, bloody coughs halting his progress. Hands grabbed his shoulders and drug him back. Robert glared balefully, lancing the man with fearsome anger. Concerned voices called his name. Lights and sounds blurred together. “...after what you’ve…” Hacking wheezes tore his throat. “...jus’...get away…” His head lulled and darkness swallowed him.


	49. Chapter 49

Tagaan swung his head angrily. ‘ _ The audacity....the arrogance!’  _ His hands tightened and loosened over his hunting spear. Naanfa, the Moon Clan chieftain, visibly seethed before him. Four other Moon Clan warriors crowded near them, snorting and huffing in the crisp evening. A massive human hut of tall wooden poles stretched around a hill, jutting up around the pines and early morning mist. ‘ _ To… _ command _! To demand that we…’  _ He huffed powerfully, releasing a visible puff of vapor. ‘ _...we...kill for them…’  _ Tagaan pressed his ears back and dug his hoof in the loose, muddy soil. ‘ _ Arrogance! Foolish, fiendish, wretched...humans!’  _

A short huff sounded near the group. The Moon Clan scout moved into view, speaking quietly with the chieftain. Tagaan’s gut twisted. ‘ _ Time to move then? Time to run our honor in the soil?’  _ His lips pulled slightly above his teeth. ‘ _ What wretched creatures…’  _ Tension bubbled in the air. The wind pushed softly through the tall pines. 

Naanfa stomped firmly and turned. The large male snorted and shook his head. Anger tugged his ears, and agitation stood his hair on end. Gripping his spear painfully tight, Naanfa spoke. “The humans are light on their guard.” Furious anger choked his musical voice. “It would be best to attack.” His palms clenched. “Move into position. I will signal to strike.” A bitter laugh escaped him. “At least we need only destroy their warriors.” He dipped his head and sighed. “...Ancestors forgive me...I bring my warriors to war against a foe that is not ours...” He lifted his arm and flicked his wrist. “Go. Let us be done already.”

Tagaan flicked his ears. The Moon Clan warriors assented the shared opinion. Stirring himself, Tagaan trot into the forest. Deep rooted instincts drowned his thought, allowing merciful oblivion. His hooves flew through the underbrush, senses keen and alert. His spear tip hovered close and level with his hips, ready to lash out. A moon clan warrior ghosted around him. Tagaan crouched forward and trained his eyes forth. A large fallen pine concealed him, draping his nimble form in shadow. The peaceful human village quieted. Gentle wind ruffled his mane. Tagaan’s eyes locked to movement. A human popped their head over the tall logs of the hut. His shaggy mop of hair bounced, and the human moved around the edge. Dull steel glint in his hand, and a loose shirt of ring jostled. Tagaan’s gut dropped. ‘ _ Barely a boy...what is he doing with a weapon!?’  _ His muscles constricted. ‘ _ That is no warrior! That is a child!’ _ The boy continued marching. Tagaan snarled silently. ‘ _ Run, boy! Throw down that weapon and run!’  _ Terrified anxiety built over him. ‘ _ Don’t...don’t you dare…’  _ The boy seemed to hesitate. Fury and fear roiled. A boyish face peered over the ridge of cut timber. Hesitance choked Tagaan. ‘ _...don’t...run boy…’  _ Sorrow wrenched his gut. ‘ _...please…’ _

A shrill horn cut the air. Furious howls tore throats and silenced the wind. Tagaan gripped the fallen log and leapt it. Terrible fury roared from him, full of pain and anger. The boy yelped and disappeared from view. Tagaan charged, mud flinging far behind him. Moon Clan warriors raced forward, axes and spears ready. His eyes locked to the rough hewn wall. Muscle swelled and pushed. His hooves left the earth, hurling his body along the wall. Left hand shooting out, Tagaan grasped a coil of rope binding the logs together. Hooves scraped wood, and he pulled his body high. Tagaan’s head crested the wall, and his right arm anchored against the inside.

Tagaan’s hooves slammed to the earth. His balance teetered briefly. A human screamed. Tagaan whipped his head up. The boy shook in the street, weapon limply gripped in his hand. A terrible howl tore his throat wide. Tagaan lifted his spear and charged. The human fell in the mud, terrified cries escaping him. Powerful hooves flew. Solid wood surged out and struck the boys head. A sharp crack silenced his cry. Terrible human screams cut the air. Tagaan sprung back and swung his head around. Human structures crowded the path around him. Horrified looks and panicked cries hammered his senses. His muscles tensed. Panic burned his heart. Tagaan howled and staggered back, baring his teeth and spear. Trembling fingers clenched. Ragged pants escaped his open mouth. ‘ _ The door! I must open the door!’ _

Tagaan shook himself and ran down the wide human pathway. The great door separating outside and in reared up before him. Tagaan huffed, looking the construction up and down. ‘ _ How...dow does this…’ _ He walked forward slowly, assessing the surroundings. ‘ _ A stairway...the cusp…’ _ Breathing deeply, he drowned out the sounds behind him. ‘ _...a wheel...with spokes?’ _ Tagaan jogged forth and experinemently tugged the wheel. The wheel yielded, shifting the gate slightly. ‘ _ Ah. Clever.’ _ Tagaan grunted and dropped his spear, and turned the wheel swiftly. The sturdy wood shifted and revealed Naanfa and two warriors. Howling their war cry, the Moon Clan breached the gap and stormed the human village. 

Something sharp slammed Tagaan’s back. The young warrior spun, drawing his leg in a sharp circle. His calf struck a human knee and capsized it. A harsh human word escaped the man, who fell to one knee. Tagaan sized him up and skipped back. Fully matured human eyes glared at him, simple chain jingling on his frame. Tagaan crouched and retrieved his spear. Naanfa charged forth and swung his axe. Blood sprayed the evening air. The humans limp body collapsed, neck torn wide open. Pity surged within Tagaan. ‘ _ Cut down like a bound hog…’ _ His stomach clenched. Tagaan ran forth, following the war pack. Human cries shattered the air. ‘ _ Men...women…’ _ A whimper built in his throat. ‘ _...children?...Ancestors…’ _ Naanfa hurled himself forward and slammed his hoof into a wooden door. Splinters flew. Screams broke out. The chieftain entered the building. ‘ _ We must...we must kill all of their warriors…’ _ Bile stung his throat. Tagaan moved forward, limbs dragging sluggishly. ‘ _...I must enter a home...defile a family's safety…’ _ He stopped near a sealed hut. ‘ _ Break and enter...break…’ _ His hoof lifted. Bitter tension sapped his strength. ‘ _...destroy…’ _

Terrible strength shattered the doorframe. Small cries called out. Tagaan marched through the rubble. A scrawny human woman shielded her lambs, brandishing an iron rod in shaking hands. Water soaked their faces. Confusion tugged his ears back. ‘ _ It does not rain inside...what soaks their faces?’  _ His hooves neared the group. ‘ _ It comes from their eyes...I...I think I have seen it before…’ _ Iron swung. Tagaan caught the woman’s hand idly, sorrow dragging down his gut. ‘ _...fluid...from the eyes…’ _ He wrenched the bar from her hand. Scrawny fists lashed out and pummled his thick hide. ‘ _...the lamb in the woods...fluid came from her eyes...fluid leaks from their eyes when…’ _ He gripped the woman’s shoulder and squeezed firmly. Her cry rent his heart. The lambs screamed, and shattered the pieces. ‘ _...they leak when they...when they are hurt…’ _ He drew his knife and dully pressed it to the woman’s throat. Stillness overtook the room. ‘ _...they leak when in pain. I am causing this pain. I am evil.’ _ Tagaan jerked his head aside, motioning to the path outside. “Go.” Hollowness weakened his voice. The humans remained still.

Burning anger, hatred for all he was and all he did, surged through him. Drawing his blade carefully away, Tagaan roared and hurled the woman outside. Her lambs cried out, swiftly silenced by his cutting glare. Tagaan walked over and gripped one by the arm and pushed them towards the door. Water fell to the muddy earth. Woman and child clutched each other and released more harrowed cries. Their eyes darted to the broken bodies laying in the road. Bleeding regret tugged Tagaan’s souls. He seized the other lamb and gently drug her outside. The mother seized her young and brought her close, cradling both to her chest. Hateful human words spat at him. Tagaan pressed his ears back and motioned to the floor. The humans stood still. Fury reignited, compelling him to slam his hoof and roar. Fearful whimpers stabbed him. Tagaan violently pointed down. His ears flicked. Tense silence built

The human woman whispered to her children and knelt, hugging them tightly. Relief crushed Tagaan’s back. He weakly gestured to the ground again, muttering aloud. “Stay. You won’t be harmed…” He turned and reentered the small hut. Heated human whispers raked his spine. His muscles tensed. ‘ _...evil surely they speak of my evil...what would mother say?’  _ He huffed softly. ‘ _...I throw around younglings, and harass mothers.’  _ Tagaan slumped, leaning over his spear. Terrified human cries thrummed dully. Angry Khazra bellows called out. Tagaan rubbed his eyes, willing the creeping exhaustion away. ‘ _ She would have stern words...if she did not understand…’ _ Spear lightly clutched, he raised his head and scanned the hut. A homely area, laden with a chimney and eating supplies, connected two small passages. Flashes of his own family whispered through his mind.  _ Haaxizan eating Daavansa’s cooking and talking excitedly over the bird he saw earlier. Familous laughter. His parents speaking of important matters softly and dismissing inquiries with exaggerated aplomb.  _

His hand traced the chimney. Fresh wood rested among well used coals, and a hefty iron pot sat nearby.  _ ‘What if some human entered our home? What if they threw my family into the mud? Held a knife to their throat?’ _ Furious sorrow choked him. Curiosity propelled his fingers, removing the iron lid. Hearty tubers swam in a broth, accompanied by sprigs of some herb and a chunk of meat. ‘ _...I have defiled a family dinner…’ _ Tremors wracked his chest. ‘ _ No better than a lowly fiend...a  _ kaad _ …’  _ He tenderly replaced the lid and righted himself. Moving of their own accord, his legs entered the left passage. ‘ _...but I would...we would understand...i'm sure…’ _ Hopelessness grew over him. ‘ _ Father would say this is  _ my  _ choice... _ my  _ choice to not allow the desecration of the ancients... _ my  _ choice to...to...rampage…’  _ His head fell. A piercing scream shook the village. Pain and humiliation slammed his ears down. ‘ _ But what choice is that?’ _ A door cut right of him, hanging open on its hinges. Tagaan pushed the butt of his spear, moving the door open. ‘ _ A choice of blood and pain...or a choice of defilement and evil…’ _ He looked over the room. A simple bed and cabinet of wood sparsely decorated the space, providing a simple cheer. ‘ _ How can…’ _ A hushed movement caught his eye.

Adrenaline surged. Tagaan lifted his spear and focused his eyes. A human male, barely a man, clutched a sword in shaking hands. Their eyes traced the other. Tagaan’s heart sank. ‘ _ Another boy...he can't even hold that steel properly!’  _ A quiet sound choked the human. Fluid streamed freely over a reddened face. Tagaan’s ears fell. Bitter, angry frustration burned his gut. “You think you are saddened, human!?” His words cut sharp and quiet. “I  _ defile  _ myself with this!” Short sounds of sorrow pushed the human back. Shaking uncontrollably, the sword point aimed at Tagaan’s chest. Tagaan flicked his ears contemptuously and stepped forward. The human backed up, sword point wavering further. Thrusting his spear point, Tagaan feinted a jab. The human’s blade swung up. Tagaan shot his free hand out and gripped the hilt. Dismay broke the human’s voice. A powerful wrench yanked the sword away, clattering uselessly to the floor. A fist swung powerfully but uncontrolled. Tagaan leaned back, allowing the strike to miss, and swung his horns forth.

The human crumpled to the floor. Wracking sobs soaked his youthful features. Tagaan’s heart wrenched, anger depleting. “Come on…” He prodded the human gently. Weary sorrow choked his voice. “...pick it back up. Don’t just…” The human flinched back and huddled deeper into the corner. “...just...sit there...fight back.” Tagaan’s arm fell. The human whimpered and cried, hands raised desperately over his head. Tagaan’s voice died, falling to a whisper. “Fight back...I...I can’t just…” Tremors rattled through him. “...can’t...just…” A red, bleary eye peaked out. “...execute you…” Labored, panicked breath shook the human’s frame. Tagaan’s ears wrenched down. Shame, sorrow, and fatigue bore down. ‘ _ Blessed Ancestors Below...what do I do?’  _ Frustration burned his gut. ‘ _ What do I do!?’  _ His spear point hit the ground. ‘ _ I cannot simply...I cannot...let him…’ _ Tagaan pressed his ears back. ‘ _ And why not!? I am to slay warriors! Not children!’  _ Strength returned to his flagging limbs. ‘ _ I am no butcher! I am a warrior! Tagaan! Son of Nostomo!’  _ The human huddled over himself. Resolve steeled Tagaan’s gut. ‘ _ I am  _ not  _ a murderer.’  _

His spear flashed out, pointing firmly to the bed. “Hide. Now!” The human flinched back, huddling and releasing a sob. Tagaan grunted. ‘ _ Fine.’  _ He gripped the human’s shoulder and pulled him up. Desperate blows flew out, raining uselessly over his hide. Growling deeply, Tagaan dropped his spear and gripped the human’s head. “Look at me!” The human slowed his struggles. Tagaan huffed. “Hide. Now.” He released the human and pointed to the bed. “Hide.” The human blinked and licked his lips. His eyes darted over the bed and Tagaan. He moved his head up and down and spoke a human word. Tagaan pressed his ears back but released him. The human scampered under the bed, tucking himself deeply against the wall. Tagaan huffed and flicked his ears back. ‘ _ Damned humans. Far too stupid.’  _

Spear returned to hand, Tagaan exited the hut. Wet, mournful faces glared at him. A sigh rattled through his chest. ‘ _ Bah. They will see that I spared him soon enough.’  _ He shook himself and looked over the town. Moon Clan warriors pulled innocents into the streets, scouring the village for armed combatants. Tagaan lowered his ears and dipped his head. ‘ _ What a travesty…’  _ Surprise and dismay slowly burned to confusion and fear. Humans knelt in the paths, shivering and huddling close. Naanfa exited a small hut, gently towing along an ancient human. He saw the lips of the chieftain moving and whispering apologies. His hands gripped the man’s elbow, guiding him into the road. Tagaan flicked his ears forth. ‘ _ We are not monsters.’  _ A healthy human male fell into the street. A burly Khazra stepped over him and thrust his spear down. Blood soaked the mud. A woman cried out, reaching her hand desperately. A small child whimpered and cried, leaking fluid freely. Tagaan’s heart seized. ‘... _ we are not…’ _


	50. Chapter 50

Tagaan stopped and looked over the woods. Tall pines bent and swayed in the gentle wind. Twilight seeped over the land. Peace radiated from grove and bush, ferried along the cool breeze and soothing drone of insects. His ears bit back. ‘ _ What a wretched lie...there is no peace this night.’  _ Seething hatred bubbled under his hide. ‘ _ There can  _ be  _ no peace...not until  _ they _ are gone…’  _ He rolled his spear around his palm, idly dancing the tip. ‘ _ Wretched, evil men. Such depravity humans are capable of…’  _ Rolling his shoulders, he continued through the Moon Clan kinlands. ‘ _ We are not such fiends.  _ We _ are an honest and good folk.’  _ Visions of blood, of massacre and execution, flashed before him. _ ‘We only butcher to defend ourselves...we are not fiends…’ _

“Tagaan!” A welcome voice called. “You are back!” Gorinna rushed to him. Tagaan met her, grabbing her into a gentle embrace. Relief poured over the pair. The last vestiges of strength fled him, and Tagaan leaned into his mate. Several quiet moments passed. Gorinna pulled back, levering a critical eye over him. “You are unhurt? No wounds, or missing pieces?”

Tagaan huffed a laugh. ‘ _ She tutts well.’  _ Wiggling his ears tiredly he responded. “No. No missing pieces.” He bit his lip and trailed off. “No...hurts...either.”

Gorinna pressed back her ears and narrowed her eyes. “Of course…” She gripped his shoulder gently. “Nothing could hurt  _ the son of Nostomo.. _ .”

“No…” He flicked his ears weakly, staring into the cold sky. “...nothing…” Visions of blood, of broken bodies and screaming humans, clouded his mind. Anxious fear tightened his body.  _ Spears lashed out. Humans cried. Fluid fell like rain. Harrowed dismay cut him, the knowledge of the fluid’s purpose fresh in his mind. Moon Clan warriors slew menfolk, gazes long and ears held painfully stiff.  _ Gorinna gently pat his cheek, drawing him from the past. Tagaan heaved a weak sigh and leaned into her touch. “...No pains, no.”

Slow and gentle wind stirred their manes. Gorinna raised her muzzle, meeting Tagaan’s far-away gaze. “...no pains, my mate?” Her hands cupped his weary jaw, massaging the tensed muscles. “You do not lie to me?” Tagaan lowered his eyes, glancing to the ground. Shame tugged his gut, warring with pride and weariness. Gorinna sighed gently and traced her arms to his shoulders. “...you do not simply say you are fine so I stop worrying? Saying lies to protect me and put me at ease?” Her strong palms kneaded deep, relaxing his pained shoulders. “You are certain?”

Tagaan grunted and circled his arms around her. “Damn woman…” Her scent calmed his flagging mind. “Just like my mother...and my sister.” Pulling her close, he dug his snout in her neck. Drowsiness and soft fur muffled his voice. “Always so perceptive. Can’t hide a damned thing…” Gorinna chuckled softly, hands still massaging his hide. “How is a man supposed to pretend he is strong when you see right through me?” Soft and quiet breaths ruffled their manes. Several silent seconds passed. Tagaan’s ears wiggled limply. “Why did no one warn me? You women are insufferable.”

“You should try spending time with a  _ male. _ ” Gorinna nudged him playfully. Tagaan huffed a laugh. “Oh, you may  _ think _ you menfolk are so perfectly reasonable and wise, but if you have ever heard the gossip around the well…” Tagaan wiggled his ears happily, huffing indignation. “Some of the stories I’ve heard…” Tagaan pulled his head back and flared playfully. She flapped her ears back and high. “No. You males are just as crazy. If not more.”

“Bah!” Tagaan leaned back, ears wiggling. “Males are the most normal by far!” His hands entwined with hers. “All we do is hunt, and fish. Sometimes fight.” He returned his head to her shoulder. “Nothing crazy about that. It’s you women folk with your worrying and gossiping that make everything strange.”

Gorinna canted her ears sarcastically. “If you males could stop fighting for a moment...” Her ears flicked back. “There would be nothing to gossip  _ about _ !” She lighted bopped his nose. “So again: it is your fault.”

“...’Rinna?” A quiet voice called out. “Are you and Tagaan fighting?” Tagaan glanced aside. Nadigan peeked behind the simple cloth covering Gorinna’s hut. Small, timid eyes met his.

Gorinna pulled from Tagaan and knelt near her brother. Gripping his tiny body horn, she pressed her forehead to his. “No, Nadi. We are just talking.” She leaned back and combed his mane. “We will be inside soon. Go and eat your dinner.” Her young brother whined softly. Gorinna pat his head. “It is alright Nadi. Truly. Go and eat.” A gentle push moved him back, removing him from view. Gorinna paused, gazing to the ground silently. Tagaan shifted uneasily. ‘ _ Ancestors...what should I say to the boy?’  _ He scratched his chin. Tired anxiety nibbled him. ‘ _ Nothing? Everything? By the bloodied fang of Norag...what do I do?’  _ Gorinna sighed gently and stood, motioning to the hut. “Come. Let us rest. You need to eat too, don’t you? There is a stew over the fire.”

Tagaan huffed, flicking his ears forth. “Yes...we need rest and food.” His hooves trod sluggish and heavy. “...about Nadigan…” 

“I will explain to him.” Gorinna pat his shoulder and turned. “He is my brother, and I know him best.” Tagaan flicked his ears in assent. She opened the hut flap and gestured. “Come. Rest. I don’t know what those hornless freaks might ask of you tomorrow.”

Tagaan entered the warm hut and flopped to the simple floor. An easy calm washed over him. ‘ _ To come home…’  _ Gorinna nudged his belly, offering a bowl of grainy stew. “Thank you, beloved.” Tagaan heaved himself up and accepted the bowl. Hardy, simple broth met his lips and sated his gut. ‘ _ Good food...simple, but good. So much like this hut…’  _ His ears perked gently up. “You are a fine woman, Gorinna. Truly.”

A quiet bubbled from her. “Oh? I’m glad you think so.” Kneeling beside him, she combed a hand through his matted mane. “And I think you are a fine man, Tagaan.” It’s twin joined, gently undoing his warrior braids. Tagaan sighed appreciatively and leaned into her. “...truly. You shed blood for my clan.” Tagaan pressed his ears back and high. “Your own and the blood of others.”

“It is my duty to fight and bleed for you.” He rubbed his eyes. “I don’t understand. Why does that make me fine?”

Adjusting her position, Gorinna hummed softly. “...you did not fight for  _ me _ , Tagaan.” Her hands worked an unsure but steady pace. “A man could have easily mated with me and brought me back to his clan.” Tagaan grunted and waved a hand half heartedly. “I’m serious. The woman joins the family of the man. You know this.” Tagaan pulled his knees up and circled them. ‘ _ True...technically she and I are both Sun Clan now...but Nadi…’  _ He flicked his ears back. A long strand of his mane fell free. “But you are here, and helping my people. You have a good heart, Tagaan. Not all would treat their mates people as their own.”

Tagaan glanced aside. “I...thank you for your praise, my mate.” A comfortable quiet fell over the pair. ‘ _ Not all  _ would _ do as I do.’  _ A quiet chuckle rumbled his chest. ‘ _ Some of the old timers would condemn it, even! But it…’  _ He looked down at his palm. Another lock of his hair fell free. ‘ _...it is the right thing. I know it. They  _ are  _ kin.’  _ He clenched his palm. Toughened hide creaked and powerful muscle bulged. ‘ _ We are  _ all _ kin. Sun, Blood, Ice, Moon…’  _ Gorinna’s smaller hand intertwined with his. “We are all one people, my mate. I will abandon no one.”

  
Gorinna pressed her forehead against him. “I know, and I love you for this.” The pair fell silent, sipping their broth and stroking each other lightly. Tagaan gazed high, envisioning the stars above. ‘ _ They are  _ my _ people as well. We are all each other’s people.’  _ He set aside his bowl and leaned back, resting on the fur covered ground. Gorinna pressed herself to his side, nestling between his arms and sighing. Tagaan wrapped his mate tightly, sharing his heat and strength with her. ‘ _ And I once swore...I swore I would never fail my people. Yet…’  _ He lifted his free palm before him, gazing over his scars and callouses. ‘ _...what if these human filth went to  _ our _ cave? Despoiled  _ our  _ ancestors?’  _ His hand dropped. ‘ _ I would drive them out...slay the fiends and free our dead. Strike at night, swiftly and with more power than I have ever mustered.’  _ A burning resolved sparked in his core. ‘ _ So why do I not? I am blessed...I am swift…’  _ He clenched his teeth. ‘ _...I am strong...I am a powerful hunter…’  _ His ears pulled back firmly. ‘ _...I am the Son of Nostomo. I am Tagaan, and I shall be their doom.’  _


	51. Chapter 51

Robert coughed, jerking swiftly awake. Cold, stagnant air assailed his senses. A lance of seething agony struck his chest, hammering the air from his lungs. He gripped his chest, wrenching himself upright. Horrid, ragged coughs wracked him. A strong hand gripped his shoulder. His head whipped around. Dragnarik’s weathered face snapped into view. “Steady.” Robert wheezed, allowing himself to fall back. ‘ _ Damnation…’  _ The older man nodded and drew back, crouching over a small fire. “You are hurt badly. It would be wise to remain still.”

“You…” Harsh coughs choked his words. Robert rubbed his eyes roughly. “...feck! You don’t say!” Dragnarik huffed a laugh. Thunderous pain dulled, lance faltering to a prodding needle. 

“You really can’t seem to help yourself, can you?” Alice’s rich voice carried to him. Robert craned his neck around, glancing over the room. Alice stood, leaning against an old door frame. Lyndon restlessly paced several feet away, deftly weaving around fallen stones. Rumford and Morgan sat near each other, apparently sleeping. A pair of militia-men hovered around the small room, eyes nervous and distant. “An ounce of caution would serve you well, dearie.” A grin tugged her thinned lips. “Sooner or later that reckless courage will get you killed.”

“Sooner.” Lyndon muttered, arms crossed and jaw clenched tight. “Much bloody sooner.” He groaned and pressed a palm over his eyes. “By the Prophet’s shining dome, man!” His sharp eyes snapped into view. “Why even fucking bother with that ridiculous armor if you’re just going to splatter your guts inside of it!?”

Robert furrowed his brows, burning shame warming him. “Well, now!” He folded his arms. Piercing shards lanced his heart and stole his breath. “S’not like you would understand sacrifice!” Petulant anger boiled his rationality. “Ya…”

“Oh of  _ course  _ not!” Lyndon snarled and turned on his heel. Shoulders tense and teeth clenched, he spoke over his shoulder. “Because the  _ only  _ bastards who can  _ possibly  _ understand sacrifice are religious!” Scathing sarcasm laced his voice. “How could I have forgotten?” 

Alice grimaced and folded her arms. She spoke low and soft, almost pleading. “Boys, please…” Dragnarik pulled a jar from the fire and levered open its lid. His knife dipped in, gathering the heavy blue paste and smearing it in a mortar. Her eyes flashed over accusingly. Alice tapped a simple rhythm through her boot. “We really don’t…”

“Right you are, Lyndon!” Robert pushed himself up, indignant anger smothering his pain. “S’a people’a  _ faith _ what keep you cowardly folk  _ breathin’! _ ” A jagged cough staggered him, draining his strength and pushing him down. ‘ _ Feck! Damn!’  _ Robert choked air out, fury stringing together butchered words. “You...blood...less...thrice...damn...damned…” Weakness pressed heavily. Cold sweat leaked down his back. Colors and images blurred. Sparkling lights danced. His heart thundered and cold numbness overtook the stinging pricks. “Da...da…”

Distorted voices rose around him. A pair of hands gripped his shoulders. His lungs shuddered, breath weakening every fleeting moment. ‘ _ Hell’s wrong…’  _ Robert grit his teeth and rallied his will. Spastic tremors pulsed, raking his blood and paralyzing his nerves. ‘ _...with me…’  _ Panic swelled in the senseless words. A sharp bark cut the air, and strong hands pushed his arms down. ‘ _...why...what is…’ _

__ A hot blob of paste pushed into his throat. Robert flinched. His arms thundered, briefly lifting the restraining limbs. Popping rivers grew down his neck, reigniting pain and warming flesh. Robert coughed reflexively. Sensation blossomed, returning cool air and sharp pain to his chest. ‘ _ Hells...somethin’ got me good…’ _ Consciously stilling his breath, Robert screwed his eyes shut. ‘ _ Some healin’ paste’r other? Best notta move.’  _ The voices quieted. Ringing bells fell silent. Robert hissed, expelling his pain and breath. ‘ _ Let it’n the Laws do their work. Be up in no time.’ _ He opened his eyes and inhaled deeply. A collage of worry hovered about. Rumford watched uneasily, bags weighing heavy beneath his eyes. Lyndon pulled back, rising to his heels and stomping away. Dragnarik, kneeling nearby, flashed him a cursory glance and dug another hefty glob from his jar. The unknown militiamen stepped back, nervous and uncertain. The hulking Northman rubbed his beard, scrutinizing the paste. His calm voice rumbled out. “You are wounded gravely, Kasalis.” He nodded and applied the paste to Robert’s chest. Wellness seeped down, smothering his pain. The restraining hands left slowly, allowing him to rub gingerly at his chest. 

Robert groaned appreciatively. ‘ _ Wait...how badly?’  _ Clearing his throat and furrowing his brows, Robert spoke up. “Badly? Jus’ how bad’r we talkin’?” He forced a weak chuckle. “S’not like it’s lethal or nothin’, right?” Dragnarik growled, a guttural whisper rumbling from behind his throat. “...right?” Robert fidgeted. ‘ _ Acting like I’m bout’a get’a scolding…’ _

Dragnarik released his breath, huffing a short grunt. “You are wrong. Your wound is lethal.” Robert’s heart sank. ‘ _...Ah...that would do it…’  _ Shaking his head, the older man continued. “If my suspicions are correct, then you have sharded your heart.” Piercing eyes, thunderous fury barely restrained, lanced him. “I do not know if you can be saved.”

“Well hold on now…” Rumford spoke up, lifting a nervous hand.

Dragnarik cast him a withering glance, imposing force nearly physically silencing the man. “No. There is no ‘holding on’.” His eyes bored back into Robert. “There are no ‘sorry's or trying again.” He tapped Robert’s chest, sending a branching lance of pain through him. “...I believe your recklessness has cost you your life.” 

Anger fled his features, leaving nothing but scars and sunken lines draped mournfully over old bone. “I’ve seen this only once before...Caelyn.” He rubbed his tired brows. “She was a battle maiden from Caldeum. She called herself a ‘Paladin’, and used powers similar to yours.” Sitting down, he hung his head. An invisible, insurmountable weight seemed to rest atop him. “She joined my Band, and fought alongside us.” Robert furrowed his brows. ‘ _ Band? What’s he talkin’ about?’  _ Dragnarik rubbed his chin, eyes distant and cloudy. “After the span of a year, we were ready to call her blood-kin. She believed she was ready to lead a warband, and I agreed.” Alice pulled back, fading into shadow. Rumford, Morgan, and the unknown militiamen took seats or leaned against the ancient walls. Expectant quiet filled the room. 

Dragnarik paused, clasping his hands beneath him. “Demonkin...Snakespawn and Fallen...a host of devils fell on the caravan she guarded. I am told she fought well…” He rubbed his thumbs over his hands. Robert chewed his lip. ‘ _ She sounds right fearsome…’  _ The old man sighed and shook his head. “When I arrived, she lay on the ground, coughing and wheezing. Broken bodies and blood lay all around her.” He smiled faintly. “Most were demons, a great deal more than I would think. Ashes and cinders were all that remained of some…” He paused and looked at Robert. “Much like I hear you did, they say she exploded, briefly seeming to become the sun itself.” Leaning back, he looked to the ceiling. His jaw clenched and worked silently. Several seconds passed. Emotion choked the old warrior’s voice. “...She died in my arms, as I tried to carry her to a healer. She choked upon her own blood, Kasalis.” He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His voice steadied. “The apothecary sought what killed her, and found a jagged Tiaff lodged in her heart.” His eyes sought Robert’s. Profound fatigue dulled the stormy orbs. Robert licked his lips nervously. ‘ _ That’s them crystal things...ain’t they…’ _ Dragnarik spoke, voice steeled despite his apparent sorrow. “Cuts and gouges scoured her lungs. Every beat of her heart ravaged her flesh.” 

A heavy sigh deflated the man’s large chest. Alice muttered, and Lyndon shook his head.“I have been reapplying this healing salve for the past five hours. It seems to have kept you alive, but I do not know how much longer it can persist.” Worried murmurs spread between the militia. Robert reclined, looking away from the Northman. ‘ _ Damn...damn that really does sound right bad, don’t it?’  _ He folded his arms, ignoring the now ominous pain splintering his heart. Dragnarik briefly lifted his hands before dropping them down. “Only time shall tell, though you seem sturdier than her by some measure.” He shrugged. “Perhaps you will live.”

Robert grinned, shoving down his worry. “Course I will. Promised mu…” The word died in his throat. “Promised...mu...mu…”

Alice spoke, raising her voice slightly. “Promised what, Kasalis?” A calm reassurance eased the prying inquiry. “It is alright. We will not judge you.” 

Robert flushed and glanced away. ‘ _ Damn Damn Damn! What do…what can I…’ _ He cleared his throat. “I...I prom...promised my…” Lyndon glanced back and quirked a brow. Dragnarik rolled his hand encouragingly. “I...my…” Robert swallowed the lump choking his words. ‘ _ Damn! Might as well just come clean now! Can’t hide it…’  _ A heavy groan dropped him back. “Right! Ya got me. I promised my mum I’d see our name honored.” He paused, mouth hanging open. ‘ _ Shite.’  _

Lyndon nodded. “Family name…” A dour cast draped him. “I know that feeling, friend.” He turned and gazed down the hallway. Relief crashed over Robert. ‘ _ Oh! Right! Could easily mean that!’  _ He stilled his panic and nodded. Lyndon’s voice fell quiet. “We do and say some crazy shit for family, don’t we?” His fingers tapped idly. “Promise this...do that...” His voice trailed off. Rumford quietly spoke to the militia, discussing some affair fervently. Alice grimaced and tapped her foot. Dragnarik remained motionless and silent. A brief and uncomfortable hush engulfed the room.

Robert pushed his legs out, stretching the cramped muscle. ‘ _ Well now things’ve got right sour…’  _ He buzzed his lips and glanced down. ‘ _ And we’s just sittin’ about...doin’ nothin’.’  _ He pursed his lips. ‘ _ Can’t stand doin’ nothin’.’  _ Clearing his throat, Robert spoke aloud. “Right. So what’re we doin’ now, then?” 

Dragnarik shook his head and stood, weariness seemingly gone. “We face the demon locked behind that door.” He pointed, indicating the large doors adjacent them. Robert followed his finger outside the small hallway, glancing into the antechamber where they faced the cultists. ‘ _ Ah. That would explain the big sod off doors, I s’pose.’  _ A growl rumbled deep in the Northman’s chest. “It is a greater demon, one of the mightier breeds I know of.” He shook his head and took up a heavy jar. “It is why I sent Rumford back to town, and why I stayed here.” The lid toppled to the ground, releasing a pungent coppery scent. “Great strength is needed to fell this beast, and Tristram’s warriors, though valiant, are not up to task.” His fingers dipped in the jar, withdrawing a hefty glob of vicious red paste. Robert grimaced. Lyndon quirked a brow, looking the pot up and down. ‘ _ Now that  _ really _ don’t sound good…’ _

Robert pushed himself up. “A’right, so what we facing?” He grinned through his pain. “I’m sure it’ll be simple.”

The Northman rubbed a line of the paste, apparently paint, on his arm. A tribal pattern of ridges and harsh lines slowly formed over his skin. “It will not be simple.” He stared Robert down, cold fury burning his eyes. “Victory is possible, but we must be cautious and wise.” A growl shook his chest. “You especially. I would say for you to return to town, or stay here...but we need your might.” He continued applying his paint. “We face a Butcher, a demon I have seen but once before.” Robert frowned. ‘ _ Butcher...now don’t that sound like a friendly name?’  _ Dragnarik closed his eyes and fell still. “It is an abomination...stronger than twenty men and harder to fell than a Torodor.” His hands clenched tightly. “It wields a blade of massive proportions, and a chained hook. It’s skin is red as fire, and burns to touch as if it was.” Robert sat back, pulling his legs to his chest. ‘ _ Well...shite.’  _ He glanced at the others. Lyndon idly fiddled his thumbs, Alice watched the far hall, and the militia continued their discussion. ‘ _ They sure are takin’ it well…’  _

Dragnarik pulled another blob of paint to his face and began smearing it. “We have discussed our plans already, and have steeled our nerves for the coming fight.” He drew a fearsome bolt over his eyes, shadowing them beneath a red haze. “You do not need to join us…”

“Like hell!” Robert pushed himself to his feet. His hammering heart sliced around his chest. Gritting his teeth, he shook his head. “I’m not about’a sit around an’ wait for someone else to fight for me!” He clenched his palms tight. “Not now, not ever.”

Dragnarik nodded solemnly. “I believed you would say that, but it still needed to be said.” He lowered his eyes and breathed deep. “Make whatever preparations you must. We move soon.” The man turned back to the small fire, eyes distant.

  
Robert sighed and rolled his shoulders. ‘ _ Aye...aye.’  _ He rubbed his chest tenderly. ‘ _ I can do this. I know I can.’  _ A sharp pulse of agony lanced him. Robert grit his teeth and looked around. His mace and armor lay near the bedroll he rose from. Fire glint over his helmet. Resolve burned brighter. Robert shoved his pain aside and grabbed his armor. ‘ _ I’ll make her proud…’ _


	52. Chapter 52

Robert rolled his shoulders and walked on. Dragnarik marched upon his right and Morgan his left. Lyndon and Alice moved silently behind them, bow and crossbow readied for battle. Grim quiet pervaded the group, disrupted only by their heavy steps and measured breathing. Old stone sprawled around them, decorated in fresh blood and dust. The large doorway loomed, an ancient guardian warding away the depths. Robert bit his lip and chewed anxiously. ‘ _ About’a fight a demon. A big demon.’  _ He clenched his mace tightly and shifted the comforting plate adorning his frame. ‘ _ I’ve got more armor’n any of the others...only makes sense I take point.’  _ His legs marched forward, unaffected by his daunted mind. ‘ _ Dragnarik said it was bigger’n tougher than just about anythin’...’  _ He glanced over his shoulder, glancing over the heavily painted Northman. ‘ _...and he sure does seem to know what he’s about…’  _ Fluttering jitters twisted his gut, excruciated beneath his pounding heart. ‘... _ Damn...I really am fekked up…’ _

“So, Northman.” Lyndon’s voice carried softly over the group. Dragnarik slowed and met his gaze. Robert slowed himself, keeping an eye forward. “About that paint you plastered over yourself…” Robert tilted his head back. ‘ _ Aye...I’m a mite curious myself…’ _

Dragnarik huffed and turned away, resuming his pace. “It is a warpaint.” The old warrior shrugged. “It is to help me focus.” 

Lyndon sighed dramatically. “Oh is that all it is?” His fingers tapped the hull of his crossbow. “With all that chanting and bother, I thought it might have some cultural significance.” Robert glanced back. ‘ _ S’got a point...does seem a bit special.’  _ Lyndon sniffed, keeping his eyes trained distant. “My mistake.”

“You are correct, Lyndon.” Dragnarik slowed his pace, arriving before the grand doors. “It has cultural significance to me.” A small smirk tugged his lip. “But you would not understand it.”

Lyndon rolled his neck and groaned. “Oh...oh alright, you blasted savage.” He easily stepped into position left of the grand door. “You just might be right, you know.” A grin lifted his eyes. “Can’t understand your blithering as is. Doubt I could get a grasp of  _ cultural _ blithering.” Dragnarik barked a laugh and waved his hand dismissively. The tension building broke, and soft laughter filled the antechamber.

Robert chuckled softly. Immediate lancing pains halted him. A sharp hiss dispelled some of his pain. ‘ _ Damn.’  _ He set his shield and leaned against it. Dragnarik turned and glanced over the assembled throng. Robert nodded and gripped his mace tight. Solemnity returned amidst a chorus of soft affirmatives. Robert grit his teeth. ‘ _ Damnit, but I need some vigor about now…’  _ The Northman turned to the door. He approached a large wheel lever and began turning it.

Robert closed his eyes and inclined his head. ‘ _ Hope...hope will help me here.’ _ He stilled his mind and brought his mace over his chest. ‘ _ Nurture always in your heart compassion and peace.’  _ His will quested down, seizing the power within. Blazing agony surfaced. Robert breathed shallowly, hands creaking over his armaments. ‘ _ Kill with heavy hand and heart.’  _ His heart thundered. The crystal within his heart cut deep, shredding the flesh of his torso. ‘ _ Doubt not the righteous of your cause.’  _ Crimson fluid seeped freely, bubbling up through his mouth. ‘ _ Protect those who cannot protect themselves.’  _ Tremors shook his weakened body. Glorious heat built in his heart. ‘ _ Judge others on…’  _ He gasped quietly and his legs shook. A hand alighted on his shoulder. ‘ _...on character...and merit.’  _ Profound agony splintered his focus. The tremors assailing him grew in urgency. Robert whimpered and leaned over his aching chest. The Hand gripped tight, concern evident. His will gripped the escaping power and held firm. ‘ _ Practice mercy.’ _

Vibrant light suffused his ravaged body, and immediately began soothing his hurts. Robert dipped his head and popped his visor. Spitting out the blood, Robert paused and steadied his breath. ‘ _ Thank Akarat...Thought I might keel over then’n there.’  _ He pat the hand on his shoulder and nodded gratefully. “I’m a’right.” Morgan withdrew her hand and nodded stiffly. Tightly restrained fear hollowed her expression, and her lip trembled slightly. Robert snapped his visor shut and straightened himself. ‘ _ Can’t be slouching now, they’s relyin’ on me.’ _ His body assumed an easy stance, shield forward and hammer ready. A pain throbbed and diminished. Pausing briefly, he calmed himself and spoke. “Let’s us get on in there, eh?” He grinned within his helmet. “Killin’ demons is fine work.” He glanced over his shoulder and nodded. “Sure, it’s rough...but I’ll watch your back.”

Morgan nodded, uncertainty yet clouding her eyes. “Aye...aye.” She glanced away and rolled her shoulders. A deep, resounding creak heralded the mighty doors opening. Morgan bit her lip, hesitantly peering down the lightless corridor. “S’good work…s’good work…”

A faint scent reached Robert’s nose: old blood and rotten meat. He scrunched his nose, futilely recoiling. Dragnarik walked forward, silent and unfazed. ‘ _ Man was right about one thing...sure  _ smells _ like a slaughterhouse down there.’  _ Dim fear embraced revulsion, halting his limbs. His eyes flicked over his companions. Similar hesitance rooted the others. ‘ _ Right. Onward.’  _ Throttling his instinct, Robert stepped forward. He squared his shoulders and stiffened his spine. ‘ _ Mother’s name would be ashamed if I stood back, whimperin’ and cowerin’.’  _ His fingers clenched fiercely. ‘ _ Not havin’ that. No ma’am. Not now, not ever.’ _

Old broken wood fell behind the small group. Robert turned and glanced over the door. His heart fluttered. ‘ _ Oh...Damnation…’ _ Colossal gouges cut the ancient stone doors and decorated the nearby hall. Chunks of hard granite lay scattered about, resting freely. Cold sweet built under his armor. ‘ _ Don’t that look right scary…’ _ A tight breath hissed through his clenched teeth. Morgan followed his gaze and blanched. Alice and Lyndon stepped through the doorway. Lyndon grimaced and shook his head. “Whatever you’re looking at...No. I don’t want it.” The athletic man ironed his gaze forward. “Not looking. Not looking.” He muttered under his breath. Robert nearly huffed a laugh.  _ ‘Well...he does have the right of it.’  _ He tore his attention back, forcing his limbs forth.  _ ‘Nothin’ for it. Backwards or forward. Backward or forward…’ _

Robert pressed on, unbowed and steely-eyed. Broken items; barrels, bottles, and battered iron, rested irregularly through the dark halls. Dragnarik paused, withdrawing and igniting a torch. Fluttering flame illuminated the hall, revealing more deep gouges and a gruesome remnant of spilt blood. The Northman stilled, staring at the splotches. His muscles tightened. Coarse, furious words escaped his mouth. “Jora...Simon...they fell here.” The fingers over his hand axe tightened, bending the wooden haft slightly. Robert bit his lip. ‘ _ Damn...damn…’ _ The Northman lowered his head. “I could not save them...and now I cannot even save their remains.” He drew a deep breath and righted himself. “That beast will pay.” His pace resumed. “By the ancient’s blood, it will know my fury.” 

Robert shook his head softly and spurred himself on. ‘ _ Bit dramatic…but I’ve got to agree.’  _ A corner turned right, leading deeper into the darkness. Morgan’s steps remained comfortably behind him. He glanced over his shoulders, checking Alice and Lyndon. The two figures followed quietly, feet flowing effortlessly along the rough ground. Robert sniffed and returned his attention. ‘ _ Damned heathens...creepin’ around with nary a sound. Makes me downright uncomfortable.’  _ Robert shook his head. ‘ _ Sneakin’ and…’ _ A heavy hand pushed his chest, stopping him mid-stride. Shaking off his distraction, Robert looked up. Dragnarik held a finger to his lips, and then pointed to his ear. ‘ _ Ah. Heard somethin’.’  _ Robert lowered his breathing and closed his eyes. Heavy, fleshy impacts sounded far off. His gut churned. ‘ _ S’pose that must be it then…’  _

Dragnarik looked over the group and nodded, readying his axe and adopting a low stance. A sharp, metallic sound carried down the hall. Robert followed behind Dragnarik, shield braced and teeth clenched tight. Another metallic thud echoed. Robert shook his head. ‘ _ Onwards. Ever onwards.’  _ A slow rhythm built, the sound pulsing through the halls every ten or twelve seconds. ‘ _ What in Akarat’s name is that?’  _ The sound grew louder, seeming to near with every step. Morgan gasped quietly, a sob threatening to break out. Robert stepped back and swiftly hilted his mace. His hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “S’alright.” He whispered encouragingly. “The Light is with us.” Morgan nodded, eyes desperate and wet. Robert licked his chapped lips. “That’s  _ why  _ you’n me are here.” Alice and Lyndon stepped quietly by. Briefly meeting his eyes, Alice smiled and nodded softly. Robert inclined his head. “We can channel the Light. We  _ are  _ warriors of Akarat.” He lifted his hand and pat her shoulder. “Know what always steels me?” Morgan shook her head. “Recitin’ the laws. Or my Oaths.” He pulled his head right, slowly leading her down the hall. “Comon. Let’s do ‘em together.” His mace returned to his palm. “The Warrior’s Oath: I stand against the Darkness…”

Morgan, voice uncertain and shaky, followed behind him. “...for all that is behind me.” Robert threw an encouraging nod over his shoulder. Morgan drew a shaky breath and continued. “I fight the dark beneath the light of Akarat.” A sliver of steel returned, reinforcing her words. The heavy sound of metal striking stone reverberated down the halls. A small whimper escaped her. “T-to the last blade, to the last breath, I shall battle evil.”

Robert nodded, pulling a measure of power forth. “My sword and soul, now and forever, I pledge to the Light.” He released the might, allowing his resolve to bolster. He glanced over his shoulder. “Now...you know the Laws of Valor?”

“Yessir…” Morgan swallowed. “But...I…” She waved her hand vaguely. “...I like…I like them Laws’a Hope a bit more, y’know?”

An easy chuckle rumbled his chest. A heavy clang sounded. Robert grit his teeth and steeled his mind. “You know, I’ve always liked them a bit too.” Clearing his throat and grinning lightly, he channeled a mote of power. “Would ya like to say ‘em with me?” Light-hearted chastisement tinged his speech. “An’ don’t forget to channel some power to ‘em. Makes it work a lot better.” Morgan muttered a soft agreement. Robert nodded. “Right. The First Law: Nurture always in your heart compassion and peace.” Morgan’s voice followed his, subdued but steady. “The Second Law: Kill with heavy hand and heart.” A gust of horrid air billowed, burning his nose and throat. Robert snarled quietly and shook his head. A heavy clang rumbled to them. “The Third Law: Doubt not the righteousness of your cause.” Morgan’s voice trembled along his. Robert lowered his voice. “...we’re almost there. Hang on.” Clearing his throat, he raised his voice again. “The Fourth Law: Protect those who cannot protect themselves.” The steady, hammering steel thundered nearby. Morgan cried softly. Fury sparked under Robert’s heart. ‘ _ Damned fiends...she should be home, Laughin’ near kith an’ kin. Not here...gettin’ ready to die.’  _ He licked his lips and popped his neck. “The Fifth Law: Judge others on character and merit.” A heavy grunt sounded along the rhythm strike, a deep and guttural sound more akin to a dying bear than a human voice. Morgan whimpered. Robert hissed, biting ferociously against the rancid scent. “The Final Law…”

Morgan spoke up, desperation and fear choking her voice. “Th-the Final Law: Practice mercy.” Robert echoed the phrase and released his building power. Gentle fingers of light nestled under his flesh. Morgan gasped, panting quietly. Metal struck stone nearby. Robert nodded. ‘ _ Good. She’s got ‘em empowered. Be a hell’ve a lot harder’a kill her now.’  _ A gust of wretched wind blew past them. Robert snarled silently. ‘ _ Dammed beast smells awful. Be a mercy to my nose, puttin’ it down.’  _

Dragnarik held his hand high and stopped. The clang sounded, and horrid air wafted around the near corner. The terrible scent of blood and raw meat assailed Robert. Dragnarik turned slightly and nodded, face grim and determined. The old warrior spoke, fury tightening his every word. “It is ahead. Kasalis.” Robert pulled himself upright. “You must move first.” Grim determination filled him. ‘ _ Right. Put all this metal’a good use.’  _ He nodded firmly. Dragnarik returned the nod and looked past him. “Morgan, you and I will cover Alice and Lyndon. Do not face it fully, the beast is mighty.” His eyes flashed to the shadows behind them. “Alice, Lyndon...I trust you to send this dog back to Hell.” Soft agreement chorused. The old warrior looked over the small group. Several seconds passed before he nodded firmly. “Bul-Kathos guide our hands.” He turned and fell silent.

Robert inhaled deeply, holding the breath a brief moment before exhaling slowly. ‘ _ A’right then. Time to get a move on.’  _ Nervous jitters shook his frame. Cold sweat bubbled over him. ‘ _ They’s countin’ on me. No time for fear. No time to be scared.’  _ He marched forward, hands clenched tight and muscles stiff. ‘ _ Akarat, divine father of Light, grant me your courage, that I might protect my friends.’  _ He drew even with the corner. Metal slammed stone, and the primal grunt filled the cramped corridor. Shining Light reinforced his heart. ‘ _ Grant me the strength to face down this fiend, to stand tall against the darkness.’  _ The power swelled within him. Robert paused. ‘ _ If one of us needs to die today...then let it be me. Amen.’  _ A deep breath filled his lungs. Robert exhaled and turned the corner.

Dank musty air, rank with the scent of death and rot, stung his eyes. Robert snarled and bared his teeth, eyes casting about. The grisly scene before him stopped the crusader short. An open room, apparently built to hold the living, stretched out. A colossal creature snapped its head to him.

Terrifying horns jut horizontally from its puggish head. Hateful flame burned its black and red eyes. Oversized canines curved away from its mouth, nearly reaching the beasts eyes. Sharp, bloody teeth and lacerated gums gnashed freely, uncovered by lip or skin. Large metal rings jut from the creatures flesh, coarse and crude iron rammed brutally throughout its hide. The beasts great arms, bulging with powerful muscle beneath its seething skin, gripped the bloody remains of some creature and a giant cleaver. ‘ _ Damn…’  _ The skull of a large cow adorned the tip of the bloody cleaver, crowned above a row of ribs stretched along the spine. The deadly blade glint, hellish steel approximated in a rough blade the size of Robert. ‘ _...that is a  _ big _ weapon…’  _ Short stubby legs held the creature up, barely half the length to be proportional. A tattered, blood stained apron of black leather clung to the beast’s barrel chest, and several cruel tools hung on its belt. The creature dropped the corpse and grabbed a wickedly carved sickle, large enough to gouge and skewer two men, and turned. Robert froze. ‘ _ A...I…’ _ The creature growled, rattling his bones and chilling his heart. It’s lips parted and uttered a guttural phrase. “...Fresh…” Robert blanched. ‘ _ It can talk?’  _ The creature raised its volume, bellowing rancid air. “MEAT!”

Robert flinched. The creature hurled itself, recklessly charging toward him. It’s stubby legs thundered, belying its brutish frame. Primal fear rooted him. A horrible demonic roar slammed his senses. The creature lowered its horns and lunged. Robert instinctually braced his shield.

Tremendous force struck Robert’s shield. His limbs crumpled. The creature finished its movement, raking its horns high. His feet left the floor. Adrenaline suffused him. Air howled briefly past him. He twisted his body, raising his shield up. The ground struck his armored back, depleting his lungs and ringing his ears. Instinct curled his body tight, sheltering beneath his shield. Several cries and sharp twangs joined the cacophony of battle. A crushing weight collided against his shield. Bones splintered. Blood bubbled. Muscle tore. Robert yelped. Forcing his wounded arms straight, he desperately scrabbled to stand. A piercing warcry cut the air and heavy steps thundered past him. ‘ _ Get ya ta your feet!’ _ Robert hissed and shoved himself upright. ‘ _ Move!’ _

The beast roared and its massive weapon swung a brutal arc. Robert grunted and brought his ruined arm high, deflecting the blade off his shield’s rim. The force tugged him aside. His balance waned. Robert grit his teeth and forced himself to stand. His vision swam, and more sharp twangs cut out. Dragnarik rent his axe wide, slicing a deep gouge over demonic flesh. A hand gripped Roberts shoulder, and he heard Morgan speak panicked words. The demon hurled its sickle, aiming somewhere beyond him. Heavy iron struck stone, accompanied by Lyndon swearing colorfully. ‘ _ Damn thing’s fast…’  _ The Northman lunged forward, carving another furrow along its tainted flesh. The beast roared and yanked its arm, swiftly returning its weapon. ‘ _ And pissed as all hell!’  _ Robert shook his head and spoke, unclear but certain. A splinter of wood shot out and joined a small cluster of bolts centered around its brutal neck. ‘ _ Needs get in there...keep its attention!’  _ Robert shook his head, willing the dancing lights to still. “Don’t you worry ‘bout me!” Healing wisps of light stitched his body together. Bracing his shield, Robert walked forth. “I’m tougher’n I look!” 

The beast reared up, readying its blade and howling a furious cry. A heavy bolt slammed home below its sternum. More black ichor splattered. Dragnarik tucked himself and nimbly rolled past the creature. The beast locked eyes with him. Robert grinned and set his feet. ‘ _ Good! Just you try and kill me, fiend!’  _ Morgan stepped around his side, raising her round shield and spear. The beast and Robert glanced at her. Roberts heart skipped a beat. ‘ _ Damn.’  _ The beast swung its blade, arcing aside towards the woman. ‘ _ Damn.’  _ Robert lunged forward, infusing his limbs with righteous might. ‘ _ Damn!’  _ Morgan braced her body. Fear shimmered in her eyes. Robert forced himself further. ‘ _ DAMN!’ _

Steel met demonic iron, and Robert halted mid-air. The demon’s weapon slowed and stopped, lethal arc diverted along his shield’s edge. Horrible force flowed through the beast and into him. The air rushed around him and stone slammed his back. Robert rolled thrice. Shattering pain surged. Robert groaned and closed his eyes. ‘ _...damn…’  _ A sharp ring assailed his ears, and his vision swam gaily alongside his balance. ‘ _ But it packs a punch, don’t it?’  _ Forcing his eyes open, Robert beheld the floor. ‘ _ Gotta get up.’  _ Bracing his limbs, he pushed himself up. His left arm twitched unresponsively. The clamor of battle raged behind him. ‘ _ Gotta get up.’  _ His sabatons gripped the floor and he turned. His vision blurred. Bile burned his throat. Sensation burned back into his ravaged arm. ‘ _ Right. Back to it.’ _

Several hard blinks sufficiently cleared his sight. Robert assumed a low stance, shield barely held before him. ‘ _ Joint’s torn to hell...can’t take much more’a those…’  _ A heavy bolt dug deep under the creature's arm. Great rivers of bubbling black trailed across the beast. Dragnarik cleaved it’s left arm, cutting half way through its elbow and releasing another torrent. Robert grinned. ‘ _ Hah! Damn thing can’t keep up!’  _ His fingers tightened over his mace. ‘ _ Time’a finish it.’  _ The Northman leapt back and bellowed, voice thunderous and commanding. “Step back!” Robert blinked and stopped.  _ ‘Step back? But…’  _ He flashed his eyes over the creature.

Pure, unabated rage burned demons eyes. Terrible red flame sprouted over its wounds, burning its own blood unto nothing. A furnace lit beneath its chest, flaring brilliantly. Every bone within its body blared, visible beneath its burning hide. Its mouth split wide, and the beast roared. Deafening fury slammed Robert to his knees. Ringing silence echoed through his skull. Warmth pooled down his ears. Robert grit his teeth and stood. The beast swung its blade wide. Steel cut his armor and threw him aside. Robert rolled and caught himself, vision blurred and fluid. Staggering back to his feet, Robert turned and blinked hard. Dragnarik slammed his weapon deep in the beasts leg. Flame spewed across the Northman’s chest. Morgan prodded the creatures back, spear scraping along its hide. An arrow struck the creatures throat. It’s blade reared high and slammed down, narrowly missing the surprisingly nimble Northman. Robert snarled and sprung forward. 

A wicked slash carried the beasts sickle over his chest plate. Robert stumbled and caught himself, hammer gripped tight. Another volley of projectiles sunk deep in the creature’s hide. It’s gurgling cry shook the room. A powerful swing hurled its brutal sickle forth. Dragnarik tore his blade from its knee and hewed up, striking the creature’s arm. The hurled weapon fell off course, skittering harmlessly away. ‘ _ Can’t get closer…’ _ Robert choked up his mace. ‘ _ I  _ can _ hit it from here, though…’  _ Steadying himself, he drew forth holy might to his arm. ‘ _ Sacred Light above, grant me reach!’ _ His hammer swung a controlled arc, and a radiant silver smiting gavel soared. The sacred armament hammered the creature’s head, shoving it aside and igniting its flesh in golden flame. The ring abated and Robert grinned. ‘ _ Yeah! Take that, ya…’  _ The creature whipped its head towards him. ‘ _ Ah.’  _ A guttural roar split the beast’s throat and it lunged, blade raised high. 

Robert hissed and dived. Colossal force struck nearby, raining stony shrapnel across his armor. Robert dug within, channeling power forth. Holy light flowed along his arm and infused his hammer. Howling fiercely, Robert pivoted and flung a smiting gavel forth. Silver flashed and hammered the creature’s chest. Another bolt struck true. Dragnarik dived alongside its left leg, rending a deep gash through its bone. The creature blindly swung its sickle. Steel met steel, and the beasts blade arced away. The Northman grunted and stepped back, pain etched over his weathered face. Morgan cried valiantly and thrust her spear. A dim light gleamed over the point. Her steel bit deep and left a small silvered flame in its wake. Robert grinned. ‘ _ Atta lass!’  _ He pulled his shoulder back and hurled a gavel. Silver struck the creature’s shoulder, burning the hellish flesh. Robert growled. “Oh, just die, would ya!?” His shoulder pulled back and thrust forth, throwing searing light. The creature roared and slammed its cleaver down. A nimble figure cartwheeled away, landing easily to her heels and knocking an arrow. Painful fatigue ate away, nibbling Robert’s iron will. Breaths heavy and harsh, he drew his arm back and threw forth a surge of light. More silver flame warred against hellish red. 

The beast swung its arm, dragging the sickle through a sloppy arc. Hell-forged iron slammed his side. A sharp crack attested a broken rib. A painful pinch sundered his gut. Robert grimaced and staggered back. ‘ _ Damnation!’  _ Burning breaths shook his chest. Fluid built behind his throat, threatening to spill over. Robert roared and lifted his arm. ‘ _ Justice! Grant me your reach and destroy this beast!’  _ A flare of golden light filled him. He swung mightily and threw forth the golden Hammer of Justice. Crushing might struck the beasts jaw, shattering bone and igniting flesh. It’s roar grew garbled. Swinging its blade high, another bolt slammed home under its arm. The creature staggered. Dragnarik flung himself forth, axe flashing. Steel bit bone and severed flesh. It’s left leg fractured, split in two over its knee. Flame exploded, scorching the stone below. The creature swung blindly. It’s blade clattered against stone. It’s fleshy left arm caught it’s decent. The creature panted and lifted its blade. Dragnarik lunged and cut a rivet through its joint. The demonic weapon clattered from its fist, hitting the floor. Flames died down, and the creature collapsed. It flailed weakly, sickle scratching along the ground. Robert heaved a heavy sigh and leaned over, resting on his knees. A sharp twang propelled a bolt in the creature’s back. It grunted weakly and waved its arm. Dragnarik spat. The Northman strode up and atop the beast. His axe blade reared high and slammed down. His coarse voice lowered again. “Back to Hell, dog.” The beast shuddered. Several twitches jerked its ravaged limbs. 

  
Robert shook his head. ‘ _ Bloody...damned...that…’  _ Sighing heavily, he straightened himself. “What a rotter…” Morgan grunted affirmatively. Lyndon heaved a dramatic breath and sat down. Alice held a hand against her heart and closed her eyes, breath steadying. The Northman lowered his head, age swiftly becoming more apparent. Robert holstered his hammer and winced. ‘ _ Right...that’s done.’  _ His overexerted body cried out, demanding rest. A heavy groan escaped him. Robert set his shield and leaned down, plopping fully to the stony floor. 

Several quiet moments passed. Lyndon’s voice called out weakly. “Alright…” A short cough interrupted him. “Mm. Right. Anyone got a drink?”


	53. Chapter 53

A low growl rumbled through Warren’s chest. ‘ _ Another sigil carved.’  _ He withdrew his small ceremonial knife and set it against his finger. A droplet of blood formed over the tip. ‘ _ Bind the magics, and continue.’  _ His knife withdrew and dribbled crimson on the rune of reaping. The inverted crescents flared, and the circle they rested on began leaking Death Mist. Warren scowled. ‘ _ I do not like this.’  _ He pushed himself up and stretched his back. The narrow confines of the small Elder’s Cave pressed around him. ‘ _ Binding Khazra souls...it just...doesn’t sit right.’  _ An ethereal barb reached from the rune, sinking deep in a nearby horn. A miserable whimper reached him. Warren frowned deeply and turned. 

The Khazra warrior gripped towards his weapon, body apparently unable to act. ‘ _ Poor creature...I do not wish to slay it.’  _ A thoughtful hum rumbled.  _ ‘It merely defends the dead. That is not inherently wrong.’  _ His great scythe rolled in his grip. The jagged, horrible blade reflected the haunting mist. ‘ _ In fact...it seems more wrong...what I do…’  _ A loud, ghostly scream echoed out. The soul of an ancient Khazra scrabbled over the ground, pins dragging it inexorably to the rune. Warren’s stomach clenched. ‘ _ Hmm.’ _ Bloody coughs wracked the injured warrior. His hand reached out desperately, shaking and weak. ‘ _ Perhaps...perhaps I have been deceived?’ _ Cold flared over him. ‘ _ Nothing old Quinn ever said advocated this…’  _ He chewed his lip and furrowed his brow. ‘ _ His arguments though...they made such sense!’  _ Warren gripped his scythe and swung. Blade met neck, and the Khazra fell still. Steel flowed freely beyond the neck, ripping away the Warrior’s soul. Its ephemeral howls grated Warren's nerves. ‘ _ I do not like this any more than you!’  _ The image disappeared, essence absorbing into his blade. Hissing through clenched teeth, Warren narrowed his eyes. Cold fingers gripped the essence and drug it away. ‘ _ Malthael...I feel that I should know that name.’  _ Warren scowled and yanked the power back. ‘ _ And why does it seem that the souls of the Khazra are being  _ given _ somewhere?’  _ Frustrated anger simmered freely. ‘ _ I feel left in the dark...what angle am I missing!?’ _

Warren sighed hotly. ‘ _ Fuming will solve nothing. I must continue. The Balance be served.’ _ Shifting his scythe, Warren turned and stalked out of the cave. ‘ _...Yet...I am uncertain.’  _ The gaunt man scratched his chin, humming thoughtfully. A cold thought emerged. ‘ _...What if I have truly failed? What if I have disturbed the Balance?’ _ Warren slowed his pace, glancing to the ground and frowning. ‘ _ I...his arguments...I…’ _ Warren narrowed his eyes and drew a steady breath. ‘ _ No. No  _ ifs _ or excuses. I must consult the masters. Either I have failed or I have not.’  _ His hands clenched painfully over his scythe. ‘ _ By Rathma...what if I  _ have _ been deceived?’  _ Warren glanced behind him. Deathly barbs latched into a spirit horn. Ghostly howls pierced the room. The form of a ghostly Khazra lamb suddenly surged through the air, pulled directly into the sigil. Warren scowled deeply. ‘ _...Then I have committed a great atrocity.’  _ He turned and strode on, back straight and eyes sharp. ‘ _ If that be, then I shall accept whatever punishment awaits me. The Balance will be served.’  _ He exited the cavern and glanced around. Simple shrubland covered rolling hills, and twilight shrouded the sky. ‘ _ By my blood and bone, the Balance  _ will _ be served.’  _

The necromancer drew his cloak tight, concealing the dark leathers covering his form. ‘ _ Time to move. Their shaman will realize what I have done shortly.’  _ A guilty grimace soured his deeply lined face. ‘ _ I do not wish to claim more lives.’ _ Warren shook his head and marched up the hill, away from the Khazra kinlands. ‘ _ And why would Malthael target the Blood Clan? They already are weak.’  _ His solid boots crunched through the sandy, cold dirt. ‘ _ To limit them? Does he see some resurgence in the future?’  _ Warren whet his dry lips, visage tense and thoughtful. ‘ _ What could provide such a push? Truly…I cannot think of such a thing that would propel the Blood forward.’  _ He crested a rise and walked along a small footpath, cool breeze kissing his brow. ‘ _ That means…’ _ Warren scowled and clenched his hands. ‘ _ That means that Malthael seeks to  _ destroy _ the Blood Clan.’  _ He spurred his feet, striding faster. ‘ _ And that means I have contributed to something the masters advise against.’  _ The wind whipped by, stirring his hood and pale hair. ‘ _ All the more reason to return...though I loathe to admit it. To see Gorrin’s face, twisted with contempt…’ _ Warren smirked sourly. ‘ _ It would be nothing new, but it  _ would  _ be directed at me.’  _ Recalcitrant free wrapped his innards. ‘ _ If it is...then I would deserve it. Rathma preserve me...but I would deserve it.’  _

Warren slowed and looked about. ‘ _ Clear enough…it will suffice.’  _ He bent down and withdrew a small dagger. The tip sunk in dirt. Warren pulled the blade, etching a circle in the tough soil. Four large squares joined the circle, interlocking in the center. Warren etched a sigil in each squares middle, symbols for the planes. ‘ _ Heaven. Hell. Sanctuary.’  _ His blade traced the final symbol. ‘ _ Pandemonium.’  _ He fell to one knee and neatly slit his hand. Warm blood spurt over his palm and to the earth below. Warren squeezed his palm, ignoring the sharp pain and leaking blood over the sigils. He exhaled and called upon his reserves of essence. Cold, immutable power filled his chest. Warren cleared his throat and stood, placing his feet steadily amidst the symbol. “ _ Na’Tha Ek Na’Qul!” _ The lines beneath Warren lit with ghastly green energy. ‘ _ And the bad part…’ _

Tendrils of life magic reached deep in his flesh, binding and weaving magic throughout the necromancer. Warren hissed, flinching against the disquieting intrusion. ‘ _ And…’  _ A flash of grisly energy engulfed him, slamming his mind and dissolving his flesh. Ravaging pain silenced his thoughts. For a brief moment, Warren floated amidst oblivion, formless and blind. Sensation built and surged. Warren’s flesh knit, forming his body anew. Vision returned, marred by sticky crimson fluid. Blood filled his body and Warren breathed. Coppery fluid filled his lungs, choking him. Warren thrust himself up, kicking his legs and swimming. His head broke water, and blessed air replaced the chill blood.

Coughing and sputtering, Warren exited the blood pool. His garments hung over his frame and blood seeped off him. Warren grimaced and shook his head, flinging cold fluid away. ‘ _ Always pleasant, that…’  _ He leaned on his scythe and hacked violently, dispelling phlegm and foreign blood. His spasms quieted. Warren paused and breathed deeply. Straightening his back, the gaunt man blinked and looked around. 

The small circular chamber he stood in sat quiet and calm, wisps of pale incense smoke drifting languidly. The large pool of blood rested behind him, and his feet stood over a permanent circle mirroring the one gouged in the earth far away. Cold black stone, worn from age and comforting, formed the domain. Several small braziers hung in the corners of the room, expelling the fragrant vapor. Warren grinned and walked towards the open entrance. ‘ _ Ah...it has been so long since I’ve been here…’ _ He exited the transit room, entering a long and narrow hallway. ‘ _ That…’  _ He glanced over an open archway. ‘ _ Should be housing...and that…’ _ He turned and began walking down the hall. ‘ _ Should be the gathering hall.’ _ Simple iron sconces lined the hall, burning with a low green light. Warren’s steps echoed softly. The necromancer turned and entered the open archway left of him.

A large assembly room sprawled before him. Numerous rows and tables lined the far edges of the room, and a massive high indentation dominated the floor. Hundreds of sigils and runes decorated the stone, remnants from countless lessons. Three young individuals sat in chairs, facing the center and the two elders standing there. The older of the two stood upon the stone floor, tapping a sigil with his solid cane. Warren smiled softly. ‘ _ Gorrin...my old master…’  _ The old man’s robes hung over a decrepit frame. His bald head bobbed slightly as he spoke. “...Five rings are needed to…” The old man paused and glanced back. His companion, an elderly woman, merely flicked her eyes and remained still. ‘ _ Mistress Tissa...as charming as ever…’ _ A small grin tugged his lips. “Ah, Warren.” He gestured towards the younglings. “I was just explaining the finer details of summoning a skeletal mage to the apprentices.” He leaned over his cane. “Perhaps you could explain it, hmm?” 

Warren grinned. “Of course, master.” He strode forward and stood next to Gorrin. ‘ _ Never one to miss an opportunity, Gorrin…’  _ He set his scythe aside and cleared his throat. “A skeletal mage is a construct: an entity built of and bound by essence.” The students looked down on him, attentive but calm. “Any minion can be raised without an arcane circle, but if done in such a way, they will persist for a fraction of the time.” Warren clasped his hands behind himself, speaking loud and clear. “The specific bindings to raise a skeletal mage arrive in five variants: The first circle is of dominion.” Warren knelt and took out his knife. He smoothly etched a tonged circle. “This is to establish your will as the construct’s own.” Warren finished the circle and glanced back to the apprentices. “The second circle is of creation.” He drew a smaller knotted circle. “This is to form and shape the essence you will use. It informs its purpose.” Warren began etching another knotted circle. “The third circle is of bone. This is the material that will form your construct.” His knife finished the circle and deftly began etching a smooth circle. “The fourth circle is of man, to form the construct as a skeleton.” Warren finished and began etching a complicated geometric circle. “The fifth and final circle is magic and runes. This is where you enable the construct to bring forth magic of its own. This is where you can shape your servant to different tasks, and imbue qualities upon it.” Warren paused and glanced up. The novices watched politely. ‘ _ I see this generation is more enthusiastic than mine.’  _ Warren pulled forth his ritual knife and cut his palm. “A sacrifice of blood is needed to bind the construct. Spill your blood…” He squeezed his palm, dripping crimson over the circles. “...infuse the runes with essence…” A brilliant surge of teal fluid poured from his hand, sinking deep within the etched lines. “...and speak your incantation. Rath’skan Vis’Ar.”

Pallid mist billowed up, swiftly forming the bones of his construct. Long, flowing garments of dark grey settled over the bones and a powerful red fire sputtered to life in its empty sockets. The skeleton’s feet left the floor, and the calm mist held it aloft. A small tug pulled on his consciousness. Warren silently commanded the skeleton to disperse. The creature immediately faded, evaporating into his scythe. Gorrin tapped his cane. “Excellent. I see you have not neglected your studies.” The elder gestured vaguely. “Attempt to summon one. Tissa…”

The matron nodded and walked forward. “Of course.” She stood, straight and unwavering, carefully watching her students. “You will use a measure of my blood for this exercise. The vials should already be distributed.” Gorrin gestured to the hall. Warren grinned, tuning out her instructions and following the old master. ‘ _ They are in good hands.’  _ Scooping up his scythe and sheathing his knife, Gorrin and he left the room. ‘ _ Tissa has always loved the novices, though she loathes to admit it.’ _

Gorrin stopped and sighed. The old man paused a moment. Warren clasped his hands behind his back and stood silent. Several seconds passed, and Gorrin spoke, voice quiet and tired. “Why do you return, Warren?” The old master turned, looking up into his student’s eyes. “It has been four years. What troubles you enough to come back?”

Warren glanced away, shame creeping over him. “I...I have come to seek your guidance, master.” Gorrin nodded, leaning over his cane and grimacing. “A year back, I was approached by an angel, and formed a pact.”

Gorrin grumbled. “Not wise, child, but far from stupid.” He quirked a brow. “What was your bargain?”

“I swore to the angel that I would bind Khazra souls…” Gorrin frowned. ‘ _ Damn.’  _ Warren licked his lips and continued. “...and stop the growth of their strength.”

Gorrin nodded grimy. “I see…” He rubbed his naked chin. “...Who did you seal this pact with? Did they give you a name?”

Warren nodded. “Yes. He said his name was Malthael.”

Gorrin deepened his frown. “Malthael? You struck a pact with the angel of wisdom?” The old man sucked his lip. “...Reasonable enough. What I know of him speaks well to his judgement. Angels will always favor heaven, but they are more agreeable than the Hells…” Warren nodded, shifting on his heels. Several quiet moments passed. “Warren...what precisely are the terms of your deal?”

“I am to engrave this sigil…” He paused and scratched it into the wall. “...inside of the the Khazra spirit caves, near the back.” He turned back and blinked. 

Gorrin stared hard, rooting him in place with his level gaze. “Warren...I’ve never seen any rune like that.” The old man hobbled over, inspecting the sigil closely. “That is not angelic...nor is it demonic...or arcane.” His master narrowed his eyes and whet a finger. The appendage withdrew, covered in essence. Gorrin traced the sigil meticulously. “...Warren...this…” He frowned and withdrew. “This  _ is  _ binding. Similar to a soul stone.” He lanced Warren with a hard stare. “You are feeding  _ something _ the souls of the Khazra, Warren.” Gorrin grimaced and turned aside. “Likely the one you are carving these for.”

Warren clenched his fists. Sturdy nails bit deep in his calloused palms. ‘ _ Feeding power...feeding power to an angel…’  _ He closed his eyes and hissed. ‘ _ I have been deceived. What a fool am I…’ _ Warren rubbed his eyes tiredly. “Then...then I have failed.”

Wood rapped his head. Warren grunted and pulled back. Gorrin leveled a flinty stare. “Failed? No. The Priests of Rathma do not fail.” He leaned over his cane. “You have misstepped. The Balance is served before, after,  _ and  _ now.” The old man gestured and turned. “Discipline yourself, Warren. Our duty is unending.”

Warren followed his master, clenching his jaw tight. ‘ _ Of course. There is no time for agonizing. The balance be served.’  _ Warren sucked his lip worriedly. “Master...I am bound by a pact...how will I overcome this?”

Gorrin laughed, a dry and rattling sound. “That would be the easier task.” He glanced back, a spark of cunning defiance illuminating his eyes. “We will raise a simulacrum and transfer the pact. Then, we simply unsummon it.” Warren grinned fully. ‘ _ Hah! Cunning, and simple. I like it.’  _ Chucking softly, Gorrin shook his head. “A small trick Tissa taught me after she herself made a bad deal.’ He waved lightly. “Come along apprentice. Let us remove these bindings, hmm?”

  
Warren nodded firmly. “Of course, master.” He followed Gorrin a step behind and on his left, feet falling in time with the elderly necromancer. ‘ _ Remove these bonds, and then return to the over world to rectify my mistakes.’  _ A small grin tugged his lips. ‘ _ Good. The Balance be served.’  _


	54. Chapter 54

A chill wind flicked Tagaan’s mane. Icy rain pelted the ground and filled the sky. Dull aches consumed his body. Iron resolve burned his heart. Tagaan stepped another pace forward, peering through the brush. A human, obviously uncomfortable and tired, stood outside the Moon clan’s Cave of Elders. Powerful anger, both righteous and hateful, shook his arms. Tagaan closed his eyes and flattened his ears. ‘ _ Rage...rage will not aid me here.’  _ His opened, allowing his baleful glare to fall on the human intruder. ‘ _ I must be swift. I must be strong, and I must…’  _ Tagaan readied his spear, leaning back while remaining crouched. ‘ _...not…’  _ The human shifted, rubbing their back along the rock wall. Petulant human words whispered along the calm breeze. Tagaan inhaled. Air slowly left his lungs, and Tagaan snapped his body forth. ‘ _...fail!’ _

Sharpened steel slammed home, impaling the human’s neck. A muffled gurgle accompanied the body's fall. Tagaan allowed grim satisfaction to fill his heart. ‘ _ Another man-swine felled.’  _ Cold focus wrenched him onward. Tagaan surged, low to the ground and senses alert. ‘ _ Move. Keep moving. Make no mistakes.’  _ The warrior stopped before the mouth of the cave and flicked his ears up. Several long, quiet moments passed. ‘ _ Nothing. Good.’  _ Tagaan reached in his rucksack and withdrew two roughly sewn bags. ‘ _ They will be listening for hooves…’  _ Leather engulfed his hooves. Tagaan swiftly tied the draw strings and yanked them tight. ‘ _ So I will not allow them to hear mine.’  _ His hand deftly found his spear. Tagaan moved, ripping his spear free and entering the cave.

Quiet human chatter flowed from the cave. Tagaan stalked forth, steps muffled and spear readied. ‘ _ Foolish, to leave only one guard. Unless…’  _ Tagaan pivoted. Following his instincts, the warrior exited the cave. A loud human word called directly upon his left. Tagaan snapped himself against the cave wall. A figure entered the cave mouth, peering closely to the recent corpse. Tagaan lunged. Steel met soft flesh and rent free the man’s lifeblood. The man gurgled, fumbling around for something, and fell to the ground. Tagaan shook himself and re-entered the cave. ‘ _ Close...If he had raised the alarm…’ _

Tagaan entered the antechamber and slowed before the Moon Clanstone. Human words and scrawlings decorated the sacred relic. Hate sparked. He silently laid his spear aside and withdrew his knife. Opening a clean cut over his palm, Tagaan offered the Moon elders his blood. A steady, protective presence enveloped him. Tagaan’s ears flicked forward. ‘ _ I am welcome here…’  _ He scooped up his spear and stepped around the stone. ‘ _...and  _ they _ are not.’  _ He bared his teeth. ‘ _ I will be the will of the elders.’ _

Tagaan stilled himself. Three tunnels dug from his position. Leather tarps hung left and right, obscuring view. His eyes scanned the floor. ‘ _ Many tracks right and center...almost none left.’  _ He grasped his spear tight and turned. ‘ _ Hunt the wounded ones first. Strike when they are weak.’ _ His hooves carried him silently along the left passage into the Shaman’s hall. ‘ _ Ancestors, forgive me. I must enter this forbidden place to remove the man-filth.’ _ The presence around him warmed comfortably and dimmed. Tagaan flicked his ears forth before pressing them back.

Tagaan prostrated himself and crawled beneath the tarp. A small, cozy room surrounded an ornate fireplace situated beneath a tiny gap in the ceiling. A number of comfortable bedrolls lay around the room, and many items and images nearly cramped the room. Tagaan narrowed his eyes, attempting to see only the room itself. ‘ _ These things are not for my eyes…’ _ A shape stirred. Tagaan froze. Upon the farthest bedroll, a slight human woman slept. Steady, even breathing depressed her chest. A moment passed, and she inhaled again. Tagaan set his teeth and scanned the room. No other movement betrayed life, and no alcoves hinted to a hidden foe. ‘ _ Good. A simple strike, and she will be felled.’  _ Tagaan flicked his ears forth and rose to a crouch. He stepped forward silently. The woman breathed in her deep sleep. Tagaan lifted his spear and lashed out. Blood spurt. Surprised and gargled screams barely reached his ear. Tagaan set his hips and twisted firmly. A sickening pop heralded her death.

Tagaan backed up and turned. Crawling under the tarp, he moved silently on. The Moon clan’s Chieftian’s Hall opened before him. Tagaan slowed. The totem centering the spartan room stood cold and empty. Scattered on the ground lay the shattered skull of Faanaakaan. His heart skipped a beat. Horrible fury burning his heart, Tagaan scanned the room from his pronated position. Three sleeping men lay far from the skull, bunched in a huddle along the far wall. One male human stood, nervously glancing between his companions and the skull. Tagaan remained still. ‘ _ One and three...this will be difficult.’ _ A dim light filled the sockets of Faanaakaan’s broken skull. An ancient, quiet voice filled his mind. “ _ Tagaan of the Sun...I will aid you.”  _ A small pressure built in his ears. “ _ Go. No sound will escape this room. Slay these interlopers.” _

Tagaan licked his lips and flicked his ears. Several quiet moments passed. The man looked from the skull to his companions. Tagaan burst up, cocking his spear back and hurling it. Steel flew, catching the man’s neck and hurling him against the wall. Blood and body tumbled. The human men stood clumsily, shouting and drawing weapons. No sound reached his ears. Tagaan sprinted, drawing his knife and hurling it. A smooth arc ferried the deadly blade straight and true, biting deep in the farthest man’s neck. Another body slumped over. Human swords fell into unsteady grips, and Tagaan tore his spear free. 

Shock distorted the human faces and shook their hands. Tagaan leaned back, easily assuming the Swooping Hawk. The foremost human opened his mouth and swung his sword. Tagaan stepped back, allowing the blade to strike air. Swiftly twisting, his spear slashed the man’s face. Instinct pulled him back. Tagaan pressed forward and skewered his sternum. Movement caught his attention. Tagaan leapt aside and evaded the second man’s strike. His leather shod hooves skittered on the ground. Tagaan’s balance swept beneath him, and hard stone struck his shoulder. 

Contortions pulled his legs beneath him. A blade struck his back, unsteady but sharp. Tagaan inhaled, biting back the pain, and drew his knife. A single fluid motion reared him high. Horns met skull and bone broke. Knife cut flesh, and human offal decorated the ground. Tagaan seized the man’s limp sword arm and slammed his blade deep in his throat. 

Adrenaline burned back down, leaving simmering focus. Tagaan pulled his knife free and wiped its blade over his arm. Crimson stained the sacred chamber and polluted the air. Tagaan wrinkled his snout and huffed. ‘ _ Fresh kills...in a cave...the other humans will smell it soon.’  _ He retrieved his spear and turned to the fractured skull of Faanaakaan. The dim light burned out. “ _ I can do no more, young one. I need my shaman…”  _ Tagaan pressed his ears forth firmly. “ _...Finish these wretches, and bring me my shaman…”  _ Tagaan delicately retrieved the largest skull fragments and gingerly placed them upon the totem. 

‘ _ One more room…’ _ Tagaan turned and readied his spear. The entryway opened up. Fresh corpses cooled, releasing their odor and churning his stomach. ‘ _ What a mess…’ _ He inched down the hallway, entering the chamber of horns. 

Movement immediately stilled him. Three humans stood above the Moon’s Pile of the Lost. Gesticulations and sharp human words betrayed their anger and frustrations. Several wooden boxes lay scattered around them, and many spirit horns littered the floor. Pure, seething hatred snared him. His spear arm cocked back and hammered forth. Blood sprayed over the sacred pile, and the human’s vile body crumpled atop it. 

Time slowed. Adrenaline welled high. Tagaan rushed the startled humans. Surprised eyes met his. Tagaan lunged, leaping several paces toward the right human. Colliding bodily, the two tumbled to the ground. Tagaan’s knife sunk deep in the human’s chest. His horns slammed down. Brain matter splattered, blinding him and soaking the sacred pile. Fury burned. Tagaan sprung, knife arcing deftly. A human blade intercepted the deadly steel slip. Tagaan lashed his foot out and struck the man’s knee. His ally swept around, brandishing his blade and screaming human words. Hoof met bone, and bone splintered. Tagaan pulled back and struck his knife up, meeting the descending human’s neck. Steel glint in the dim light. Tagaan coiled, avoiding the blow, and pounced. His hands seized the last human. 

A soft, weak face stared up to his, horror and surprise etched deep. Tagaan blinked the gore away. Sympathy tugged his heart, and his eyes wandered to the desecrated Pile of the Lost.  _ Blood. Enemy. _ Tagaan clenched his fists.  _ Defiler. Fiend. _ His baleful gaze returned. The human whimpered and screamed. Their eyes darted wildly, seeking salvation.  _ Slayer of Kin. Horrible. Monstrous.  _ Tagaan set his hooves, muscles tightened painfully. He cocked his head back.  _ Foe. Kill. Foe. KILL. _

Tagaan swung his horns. Terrible strength crumpled soft flesh. Blood splattered his dense fur. Tagaan reared his head back. Horns crashed forth. Bone struck the stone floor. Horns pulled back and swung forth. Blood stained the once holy ground. 

Tagaan lost his sense, horns flying with all his fury. Dreadful roaring hate erupted from his mouth, bleeding his throat and blinding his mind. His horns slammed freely. Hard, breaking bone jarred the fleshy rhythm.

Hands gripped Tagaan’s shoulder. His fury burned high, adrenaline suffusing him. Tagaan wrapped his arm around the other and wrenched them in view. His heart stopped.

  
Gorinna yelped, pulling back and pressing her ears flat. Tagaan immediately released her and staggered back. Sudden pain descended over him, suffocating and overwhelming. A barely recognizable pulp rested above a set of human legs, and human gore filled the hall. Gorinna stepped forward and reached her hands out. Tagaan desperately took hold of her. The two embraced, and his mate spoke soothing words. Pain rose, echoing from overused muscle and rent flesh. Elation warmed his heart, victory swelling through his soul. Horror chilled him, soul recoiling from the massacre before him. Tagaan’s ears fell, and his body shook. ‘ _ I...I won…’  _ Bizarre feelings, bitter and sweet, swirled around him. Tagaan whimpered, and clung to his mate. ‘ _ By the beloved ancestors below...I won…’ _


	55. Chapter 55

Robert shook his head, attempting to dispel the pounding wracking it. ‘ _ Blasted...thrice...blast…’  _ He groaned and rolled his neck. ‘ _ Damned Butcher beast...did us right good, huh?’  _ Stiff pain clenched tightly around his joints. Bleak, trickling rain pattered his armor. Robert slowed and stepped aside, glancing over the small procession. Morgan, Rumford, and the four militiamen slogged through the rain, weapons gripped in unsteady and weak hands. The new additions trudged along, barely recovering from the siege they weathered before rescue. Dragnarik walked behind, axe held loosely and eyes betraying his exhaustion. Robert nodded and returned, stepping an extra stride to return. ‘ _ Alice’n Lyndon’ll be ahead, doin’ there scoutin’ and…’  _ He popped his visor and rubbed his tired eyes. ‘ _...and...walkin’...’ _ Fuzziness pervaded his mind. Robert buzzed his lips and snapped his visor shut. ‘ _...walkin’. Scoutin’ and walkin’. That’s what they’re doin’.’  _

Robert stretched his neck.  _ ‘Soon. Get some bed...some bed soon…’ _ A soft groan rumbled his throat. Sharp twinging pains shot through his heart. Robert staggered, barely keeping his feet. Air hissed between his teeth. His hands tightened. Robert shook his head, willing himself to steadiness. ‘ _ Gotta...gotta get back.’  _ His sabatons resumed their squelching march. Dull shudders stole his breath. Numb pains ran through his wounded body. Robert sighed and shook his head. ‘ _ Damn...I really got one foot in the grave, don’t I?’  _ An echoing twitch pushed through his recently repaired arm. Robert winced, and forged on.

His mind lost track of time. Rain fell over him. Pain raked his chest. Robert sucked in breath and inhaled slowly. He slowed and glanced over the procession. His companions still followed him. ‘ _ Good. Alice’n Lyndon’n are ahead. Fellas are okay.’  _ Nodding shortly, he turned and continued. A short round curved ahead, and Robert strained his eyes along it. Shrouded in the evening fog and mild rain, a stout wall and sturdy gate sprung from the ground. Lyndon slouched against the imposing wall, and Alice rested on a nearby tree. ‘ _ Tristram! At last!’  _ Grinning beneath his helmet, the crusader marched on. Determination burned away pain. Robert sped up. ‘ _ A bed...a bed an’ rest!’  _ He sheathed his sword, placing it firmly in its scabbard within his shield. Approaching the gate, Robert raised his fist and called. “Ho there! It’s me, Kasalis!” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Open on up, we’s bringin’ your folks back!”

A frazzled, skittish head popped over the small wooden palisade. Robert frowned. ‘ _ Bit young to be on watch…’  _ He shoved the discomfort aside and waved. The youth returned his wave. “Hullo there.” His head submerged. Quiet words carried up along the wall. Robert strained to hear them. ‘ _ Prolly somethin’ about openin’ up.’  _ Robert shifted his heels, loosely digging mud. ‘ _ Warm bed...soon a warm bed…and gettin’ out of my armor…’  _ He tilted his head high and scratched his parched throat. ‘ _...Akarat’s sweaty rump, but that sounds good!’  _ Heavy wood shuddered and creaked. Unseen mechanisms groaned to life, lowering the sturdy timber. Robert dropped his head and set his shield. Resting his weight over the steel bulwark, he closed his eyes briefly. Three breaths afterward, he cracked them open. A young man, somewhere in his fifthteenth summer, finished cranking the heavy wheel. Leah, Deckard, and a small smattering if townsfolk stood silently under the rain. Shivers shook them and their eyes shone dully. Somber weight clogged the air. Robert stiffened his spine and grit his teeth. “Is..” He cleared his throat.. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

Leah set a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Thanks Travis.” She squeezed gently and ushered him to the group. “You did great.” Stress visibly weighed over her. Robert tightened his fists. Slight shudders shook her breath. Leah turned and spoke, voice quiet and eyes grim. “...Khazra.” Fury erupted in his heart. Quiet fell to silence. ‘ _ Goatmen…’ _ Leah nodded. “The local Khazra attacked us. Jason...Daltyn...Mikael…” She looked away, moisture filling her eyes. “They’re all dead.” Sorrow cooled his heart. Robert’s mouth yawned open. ‘ _ Dead? Daltyn’s...the Khazra killed ‘im?’  _ Leah shook her head and paused, breathing deeply. Emotion wracked her voice. “The goatmen came in town, and killed every man in town.”

Robert snapped his jaw shut and lifted a hand. Deckard stepped forward and spoke. “No, not every man, my good friend.” He pointed a shaky finger to Travis. “Travis and I were spared, and our good innkeeper hid in his cellar successfully.” He turned back and grimaced. “Three of the militia were out of town when it happened, and had the good sense to stay that way when they saw our poor friends.” The old man dipped his head and sighed. “All things told, seven people were killed today.” He waved his hand vaguely. “We buried them. Unfortunately brother Malachi…” Age seemed to press over him. “Brother Malachi perished as well. We could not properly bless the poor souls.” Robert hung his head. ‘ _ A man’a faith, cut down by goat-scum...damn…’ _

Dragnarik growled quietly. Alice and Lyndon stepped around Robert. Rumford approached and spoke up. “Cain...I…” Tremors shook his hands and voice. “Malachi is dead? Our priest…”

The old man nodded grimly. “I am afraid so, my boy.” He craned his head. “But...it seems you have returned our people to us.” Creases pulled his old face down. “But...it also seems you are missing three of them…”

Dragnarik pushed past Robert. “Step aside.” His old voice carried iron and blood. “I must prepare.” The townsfolk heeded him, wide eyed and nervous. 

Robert sputtered and shook himself. He reached his hand out. Alice called out. “Dragnarik? Prepare for what?” Robert clenched his jaw and nodded. “You need sleep, I think.”

The Northman slowed minutely. “For vengeance.” Fury radiated from his powerful frame. “The Khazra will die.”

Alice bit her lip. Robert nodded slowly. ‘ _ I...yeah...but…’  _ He rubbed his eyes tiredly. Alice licked her lips and continued. “Vengeance...yes.” Dragnarik stopped. Her steps remained nimble despite the sinking of her heels. “But not today. Today we rest.” She laid a hand on his arm. “But…” Hesitation stole her voice. The Northman gestured softly. Alice looked aside. “...I thought you believed the Khazra…”

The old warrior looked to the sky. “...Yes. The Khazra are not evil.” The terrible fury holding him relaxed. Tired, shaking muscle slouched over his bones. “I...I…” He clenched his palms and closed his eyes. His voice died, barely reaching over the sodden earth. “...I failed. I led three warriors to their doom.” Fragility overtook the colossus. “...and that mistake took warriors from here. If Tristram were…”

“Shut it, geezer.” Lyndon stared the Northman down. “Don't you go traipsing down  _ that _ road.” Steel flashed in his eyes and steadied his voice. “I’ve been there, and trust me, nothing good comes from it.”

Dragnarik lowered his head and met Lyndon’s stony gaze. A heartbeat passed, and he looked away. “You are right...you are right.” His voice quieted again. “It is a lesson I learned...long ago...so long…”

The rogue marched to the Northman and gently thumped his shoulder. “Damnit man! Don’t you go getting melancholy!” He continued past the small group. “I swear, but I know. ‘I’m old! My honor demands it!’” Waving vaguely he ambled towards the inn. “Drink an ale and sing a song. Make merry, not mourning.” His voice trailed off. “Being happy’s better than being sad...so much better…” The cold rain and mist of Tristram swallowed him.

Robert pursed his lips. ‘ _ Well...I s’pose…’  _ Dragnarik folded his arms. The militiamen waddled past the three, nervous and tired. Alice watched their departure. Several long moments passed. She glanced between the two warriors and quietly bid a farewell. Her form vanished with her voice, becoming one with the mist. Robert rubbed his neck and looked away. “I’m...I’m gonna…”

“It is fine.” The old warrior nodded. “I need to think. Go. Rest.” Robert nodded unsurely. He looked around and shook his head. ‘ _ I...yeah...sleep. Sleep time.’  _ The crusader walked on, mind foggy and body tired. 

Robert trudged through the town. Mud splashed over his sabatons. Weariness ground further and further. Painful aches sundered his eyes and chest. The door of the Slaughtered Calf neared him. Robert reached his free hand to the welcoming wood. 

“Attention!” A sharp voice called. “New Tristram is hereby property of the Third Shadow Coven!” Robert grit his teeth. ‘ _ Not now…’  _ He popped his shoulders and turned. A cultist gesticulated and proclaimed his words, two demons and two more robed cultists behind him. “Your warriors are dead! The king cares not! Obey us and live.” He pointed at Robert. “Resist and…” He hesitated. Tremors visibly shook him. “...and…”

‘ _ Guess that’s my que.’ _ Radiant light filled his heart, burning his flesh and igniting his blood. Robert turned and hurled a smiting gavel. Holy silver shot out, slamming the speaking man’s sternum. Silver flames erupted, shoving him down. The man screamed, rolling desperately to douse the flames. ‘ _ Ain’t gonna do you no good…’  _ Robert grimaced and drew his sword. The flame burned higher, spreading over the man’s robes and flesh. The two cultists stepped back nervously, words whispering between them. Robert shook his head, marching inexorably forward. ‘ _ Don’t get it, do they?’  _ A sharp twinge broke his heart. Robert grit his teeth and pulled power to his arm. ‘ _ No.  _ No!  _ I’m gettin’ this done an’ I’m goin’ to bed!’  _ Holy Light filled his palm. ‘ _ Justice! Grant me your reach!’  _ A Hammer of Justice blazed to life in his palm. 

The left demon surged, great hellforged club reading high. Thoroughly trained instinct pulled his shield up, deflecting the hollow. Shattering force slammed to the earth. Robert howled his pain and fury. His blade merged with the golden hammer and ignited. Faith strengthened steel swung high and met tainted flesh. Shock poured through his body, and the demon roared. Golden fire and black blood spilled from the creature. Robert grunted and slammed his shield over its throat. A quiet gurgle heralded it’s doom, and it fell to the muddy earth. Robert turned and brought his weapons up. The other demon staggered away, two black arrows piercing it’s hide. A short whistle split the air, and a third arrow slammed its neck. ‘ _ Hah! Sharper’n a razor, that Alice!’ _ Robert grinned and threw himself forward. The left cultist screamed and brought up their blade. Robert tucked his shoulder. Steel swung far, and his shield crushed the woman. Her broken corpse rolled away, burning in golden flame. 

“I yield!” The other cultist hit her knees and through her hands high. “I yield! Please!” Tears stained her streaked face. “Please!”

Robert snarled and lowered his head. ‘ _ She...surrenders…’  _ He clenched his palms. A deep shuddering breath ran through him. Hatred sparked his aching heart. Robert bit his lip and looked away. ‘ _ I...I…’  _ Breathing deeply, he stilled himself. ‘ _ What would mother do? She would…’  _ Quiet peace stilled his throbbing pain. ‘ _ She would forgive them. Accept the surrender...let her try’n redeem herself.’  _ Robert nodded and sheathed his sword. The woman gasped and fell forward crying her anxiety and thanks. Robert grimaced. ‘ _ Aw, now...no need for that…’  _ Robert cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“Interesting…” A husky and womanly voice muttered. Robert hissed and shifted back, raising his shield high. His jaw lowered. Several strides behind the groveling woman, another woman hovered. Majestic and sophisticated clothing of deep forest green and purple covered her chest and arms. Boots reached to her mid thigh, where a sliver of creamy flesh separated them from a short skirt. Long, billowing coattails fluttered behind her, and a massive butterflys held her bare shoulders. Claw like iron gauntlets covered her hands and a flowing hood of soft fabric shrouded her hair. Ruby lips quirked beneath onyx eyes. She smiled, folding her arms. One finger reached up to tap her chin. “I thought I would be addressing new suppli…” Whistling wood shot through her throat. Mist billowed out. Robert blinked. The woman raised a brow, figure reforming. “How rude. This is merely a projection, you understand.” Robert frowned. ‘ _ Ah. That would explain it, I s’pose.’  _ The woman crossed her legs, leaning back and sitting upon a phantom chair. Roberts eyes unconsciously followed the swath of her pale thighs. “I don’t think I will continue speaking with you, if you remain so violent.” 

Robert inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. ‘ _ Control yourself...she’s confident.’  _ He opened his eyes. ‘ _ Ask some questions. Get some information.’  _ Deliberately folding his arms, Robert nodded. “Alright then. Let’s hear what you got say.” Heavy footfalls approached. Robert glanced aside. Dragnarik stopped several strides off, eyes keep and muscle tense.

“Wonderful!” The woman clapped and folded her arms again. “Now, it is obvious my underlings failed to take this little town of yours.” She inspected her nails. “I had thought all your warriors gone.”

Robert grit his teeth. “Nope. This towns still got me, this Northman here, and…”

A heavy hand gripped his shoulder. Dragnarik squeezed gently and whispered. “She is baiting information. Watch your words carefully.”

‘ _ Damnation! Of course she is…’  _ The woman smiled slightly. “My my...does the mighty hero need his daddy?”

Robert snarled and clenched his palms. “I...he’s my friend. Somethin’ I think you must not have many of.”

A hand covered her heart. “Oh! He has teeth!” She smirked and ran the hand down her bodice. “Perhaps this will be  _ fun _ after all.”

Robert swallowed. His eyes kept tracing the woman’s strangely enchanting body. ‘ _ Need’a...need’a keep focus…’  _ He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “Right...if it’s gonna be so fun, why don’t you go ahead an’ tell me your name?”

“Oh? Give you my name?” She tapped her chin. “No. I don’t think so.” A malicious grin crossed her beautiful face. “Unless, of course, you gave me yours.”

Dragnarik’s hand gripped his shoulder. Robert narrowed his eyes. ‘ _Somethin' tells me there's more to it_... _ She wants my name...why? What could that help her?’  _ He glanced around the dark town. Several terrified faces peaked from windows, and cold rain shrouded the land. “Alright...you’ve got a deal. My name for yours.” The woman raised her brows, an eerie smile stretching wide. ‘ _ It’s important to her...why?’  _ Robert looked aside and rolled his shoulders. “But what assurance do I have you’ll follow through?”

“Is my word not enough?” She bat her eyelashes and pursed her lips. Robert stared her down. “Oh, very well.” She raised a clawed hand and pricked her shoulder. The appendage returned, dripping the crimson fluid. “I swear upon my power that I will give you my name when you give me yours.”

Robert furrowed his brow. ‘ _ Mind your words...mind your words…’  _ His fingers rapped a beat against his arm. “When? That sounds a bit...unlikely.” 

The woman laughed. “You really are sharper than you look.” She inspected her claws and licked the blood. “Very well. I will save us both the trouble and expeditate this: I swear upon my power that I shall give you my name five seconds after you give me yours.”

Robert nodded. “Alright. It’s a deal.” He cleared his throat and straightened his spine. “My name’s Kasalis. Pleasure to meet you.”

The woman uncrossed her legs and stood. “My name is Mahgda. Charmed.” Her fingers traced a small circle and a sharp pain stabbed Robert’s skull. The crusader clutched his head and swore. Mahgda snapped her head over. Robert straightened his back and snarled. Mahgda stood and traced the same circle firmly. A pain thrummed through his skull, similar but weaker. Mahgda snarled. “You...little rat!” She folded her arms and glared down. “Kasalis...that’s not really your name, is it?” She tapped her chin. “Someone else gave it to you, didn’t they?”

Robert drew a shaky breath. ‘ _ Akarat...that...with a flick of her wrist…’  _ He nodded and stood his ground. “Aye. Given to me by another.”

Mahgda waved her hand. “Of course. You still call yourself your birth name.” A sharp and angry hiss passed through her teeth. “No matter. You have no knowledge of devil magic. My name is useless to you.”

Robert frowned and nodded. “Guess so.” He shifted his boots. “So...I s’pose I oughta ask what your plannin’ on doin’ with her.”

Mahgda flicked her wrist and regarded her nails. “Nothing. She is useless to me.” The woman rested her chin over her knuckles. “Release her, kill her…” A poisonous grin crossed her face. “... _ use _ her. It makes no difference to me.”

‘ _ No difference...throwing your own follower away?’  _ Robert clenched his palms tight. ‘ _ This one...this one is rotten.’  _ Robert pushed himself up, struggling against his mounting fatigue and aching flesh. “You...you just sealed your fate,  _ Mahgda.”  _ She flinched. Robert grinned. ‘ _ It  _ is _ important.’ _

“Your petty sense of justice will avail you nothing, _ Kasalis.”  _ A cold whisper traced his spine. Mahgda snarled and looked away. “I tire of this. Enjoy sleeping in the mud, feckless wretch.” Her form popped, mist dispersing swiftly. 

Robert sighed heavily and staggered back, the weight of the day hammering over him. Dragnarik’s heavy hand squeezed and fell from his shoulder. A soft approval wandered through the air. The Northman strode to the cultist and helped her up, gently taking her elbow and speaking softly. Robert turned and raised his hand, saluting Alice. The demon hunter raised her hand, acknowledging him. Robert froze. Alice lowered her bow and turned back, chest bared fully to the world. Strong muscle layered her shapely torso, and firm breasts stole his eye. “Well done.” Her voice trailed down, as enticing as the view above him.

Robert wrenched his gaze away. “Alice!” His voice rang hoarse and embarrassed. “Your naked!”

“...yes?” Genuine confusion laced her words. “I was going to sleep when I heard the commotion.” 

Robert hissed and clenched his palms. “Well...put something on!” He paused a second and shook his head. “You sleep naked?”

Alice spoke softly. “You don’t?...And it’s rude not to look at someone when speaking to them.”

Robert snapped his back up, fierce retort burning through his chest. Alice glanced down, honest concern lining her face. She remained unclothed. “Alice! Really!” He threw his gaze down.

“It’s just my...” Alice paused. “...right. Of course. Zakarum sensibilities.” Dejected annoyance tinged her voice. “I’ll not sully your gaze any longer. Goodnight, Kasalis.”

Robert hissed and shook his head. “That’s...I didn’t mean it like that...Alice.” He glanced up. Her shut window shut him and the night out. “Alice?” Guilt and pain weighed down. Robert swayed, pulsing pain thrumming through him. ‘ _ I...I mucked that up fierce, didn’t I?’  _ He opened the inn door and marched through, waving vaguely to the voices greeting him. ‘ _ But...but surely she knows it’s wrong!’  _ His boots trod heavily up the steps. ‘ _ Its...ya can’t just...showin’...’  _ Robert stopped, staring at her door. ‘ _ She...so calm about it...but...it’s...it’s wrong…’  _ Quiet surrounded him. Pain wracked his body. Bleak stinging pain burned his eyes. ‘ _...right?’  _ Robert buzzed his lips and stirred his feet. ‘ _ It’s...I mean…’  _ He gripped his door’s handle. ‘ _ Just...showing it all...rilin’ me up for…’  _ He tightened his grip painfully. ‘ _...for...I…’ _

Robert sighed, heaving his pain and frustration to the floor. Opening the door, the crusader immediately cast off his armor. Robert pushed his armor aside and loosened his wet clothes. ‘ _ Maybe…’ _ He shook his head and sank into the bed. Sleep claimed him, dreamings of beautiful witches and demon hunters plaguing his rest.


	56. Chapter 56

Gentle wind blew through the high windows, cool gusts borne along the highest peaks of heaven. Itherael gazed through the tall opening longingly. ‘ _ Calm, peaceful and unified...would be, that heaven could remain as so.’  _ He wrenched himself away, returning his attention. Imperious spoke quietly, arms folded and shoulders hunched. “The pools of wisdom grow more clouded, and the courts still reel.” The mighty archangel stood upon his podium in the elaborate council chamber, Malthael’s empty pedestal loomed left of him. Itherael steadied himself, refusing to look to the same empty mines upon his right. Tyrael’s abandoned post stood barren upon his left. Auriel floated opposite him and upon Imperious’ right, wings dropping low and tired. ‘ _ This hall is too empty by far…’  _ Imperious continued speaking, reporting upon the status of the Silver City. ‘ _ We are all feeling it...our brothers should be here. It is not right for them to be gone.’  _ He glanced longingly towards the seat of wisdom. ‘ _ Without Malthael, we are disorganized...uncertain, hesitant, and weak.’  _ His eyes drifted to the cold seat of justice. ‘ _ Without Tyrael...how could we ever hope to enact good?’  _ A lost, painful shiver flowed through his body. “Itherael?”

Itherael snapped himself up, wings flaring briefly. ‘ _ Ah, carried away upon the shoals of melancholy...I should be more attentive.’  _ He tucked his wings and focused his mind. “Yes, Imperious? I apologize, my mind drifted a moment.” 

Imperious shook his head, sullen anger underlying his steady words. “It is fine, Itherael. We only discuss the fate of the heavens…” Imperious fanned his wings. “I thought you may show  _ some  _ interest.”

“Calm, brother.” Auriel spoke, soft and reassuring. “We are all in poor spirits this day.” Her hands remained clasped behind her, wings still held low. “He is not the object of your anger.”

Imperious hung his head and deflated. “Of course...you are right, of course.” His fading wings dulled further. “I apologize. My temper is short, and I am unused to completing these tasks.” He pulled himself up. “Yet still, your opinion  _ is  _ needed on how to proceed.” 

Itherael nodded. “Of course. What matter is that?” 

“We must decide who to appoint judicator.” Auriel lifted her wings slightly, voice warming. “There are a few remarkable candidates. F’vennael, in particular, I believe would carry out the duty well.”

Itherael glanced at Imperious. The archangel of valor shrugged his wings. “As good a candidate as I can think of.” He turned away, looking to the open windows. “He would never amount to Tyrael…”

Itherael shook his head, good humor warming his heart. “None would equal him. But…” He glanced across the chamber. “...If he is the best choice, shall we cast a vote and canonize it?” Auriel and imperious nodded. Itherael closed his senses and continued. “Good. F’vennael shall be made steward of justice. All those in favor.” Auriel and imperious flared with positive light. Itherael flashed his own approval and nodded. “It is decided then. What other matters must be attended to?” 

Imperious shifted. “The halls of Valor yet ring with heroism. My host is well.” 

“The garden blooms, and the choir soars.” Auriel laid a hand over her heart. “My host is well.”

Itherael clasped his hands and reached to the light of Fate. “The scholars remain studious and peerless.” He nodded. “My host is well.”

Auriel folded her arms over her chest. “But the pools of wisdom...Mathael’s host suffers.” Her brothers shifted uneasily. “What can be done about this?”

Silence fell over the council chamber. Gentle wind blew high above, steady and free. The distant notes of the Choir reached them. Three archangels stood, wings drooping and minds churning. Three stood alone in the council of five. Several long, quiet moments drifted by. Itherael hung his head. ‘ _ What  _ can _ we do? The host of wisdom works tirelessly…’  _ He brought his hand before him. ‘ _ I have no experience channeling the light of Wisdom… I know not how…’ _ He closed his palm, melancholy threatening to swallow him. ‘ _ The angels of Wisdom have yet to find  _ any  _ success becalming the waters…’  _ Imperious spoke, breaking the quiet. “...I must attend to my warriors. Excuse me.” The archangel of valor stepped down, exiting the painfully empty chamber. “We will reconvene next cycle.”

Itherael waved lightly, milling his own thoughts over. ‘ _ What can be done, I wonder?’  _ Auriel hovered quietly. Both remaining angels watched their brother’s departure. ‘ _ Strength cannot calm the waters, and so Imperious can do nothing.’  _ The light of his form dimmed. ‘ _ Study will offer no clarity, and so I can do nothing.’  _ Itherael drifted down his pedestal. ‘ _ Hope cannot mend the waters, and so Auriel can do nothing.’  _ Discordance churned through him. Itherael’s form shifted and wavered, elegant wings dimming and pulling short. ‘ _ What  _ can  _ be done?’  _

The brilliant light of heaven poured around him. Itherael paused, gazing below. The majesty of the heavens stretched far and wide, the borders of the silver city resting somewhere beyond the horizon. The gentle weather descended from the spire and bathed the peaceful land in warmth. Itherael pulled upon the light of Fate and shifted his form. Within a heart's breath, he phased through the heavens and re-emerged before the Library of Fate. Itherael pushed on, entering the grand archives.

The scholars and visiting angels of other Lights greated him or bowed from his way. Itherael waved, exchanging simple pleasantries as he sought the heart of his domain. 

The archangel slowed before his celestial charge. ‘ _ Mayhaps study will not solve the issue, but study will surely aid in the endeavor.’  _ The metal soles of his shoes touched the smooth floor. Ascending the steps, he channeled the Light of Fate and filled his form. Itherael took up the scroll and unraveled it. Thousands of possibilities unfurled before him. Cold dread seized him. ‘ _ No…’  _ His wings fell. ‘ _ No!’  _ Fate burned his senses. All futures stemmed out, scrawling in the scroll even as he beheld it. History, from the beginning of all unto the moment at hand, filled the scroll. Itherael scanned the recent past. ‘ _ What has caused this...what…’  _ He clenched his hands, light within his body fraying. ‘ _ A human cult? This is all?’  _ Itherael fluttered his wings. ‘ _ How...why does this create such ripples?’ _

  
Itherael hummed curiously and set his heels to the floor. ‘ _ A mere cult, altering the fate of both Heaven and Hell? No...no there must be more.’  _ He set his mind and called upon the Light of Fate. Moments revealed themselves. History suffused him. ‘ _ The leader of this cult...a human, called Mahgda…’  _ Itherael’s form burned, overflowing with Light. ‘ _ No. They are not the cause. No...no…’ _ A great surge of Light filled him. Itherael gazed to the formation of the cult, and realization froze him. ‘ _ Of course...only a Prime Evil could affect such change. Only a lord of Heaven or Hell could do this.’  _ Itherael closed the scroll and carefully replaced it. ‘ _ Only Belial, the Lord of Lies, could deceive someone into believing  _ his _ plan was  _ theirs…’ Itherael stepped down, folding his arms and drawing inward. ‘ _ Hell stalks Sanctuary once more.’  _ He turned and walked, form alight with Fate and mind churning. ‘ _ To remedy this...a steady hand is needed. A  _ most _ steady hand…’ _


	57. Chapter 57

Consciousness found Tagaan and stirred him from his deep slumber. Warmth surrounded him. Heavy and comfortable weight numbed his arm. Tagaan opened his eyes and regarded his sleeping mate warmly. ‘ _ What a fine creature…’ _ His ears rested easy and high. Gorinna’s horns lay alongside his shoulder, and his arm pillowed her head. Tagaan placed his hand over her chest and ran it along her belly. Gorinna lightly gripped his hand. “No.”

Tagaan blinked and withdrew his hand. A gruff laugh shook him, and he flicked his ears. “No?” Tagaan pressed himself against her back. “But…”

Gorinna turned and stared him down coolly. “Later. You agreed to a meeting.” Tagaan drooped his ears and leaned back. ‘ _ The meeting…right…’ _ Gorinna pat his snout. “Don’t pout. I didn’t say ‘never’.” She flickered her ears back and high. “Honestly. I enjoy it as well, but there are things that need doing.”

Tagaan grumbled a half-hearted string of broken words. The warrior stretched his body, loosing his sleep strained muscle. “Alright.” Rolling his shoulders, Tagaan stood and shook his head. “I’ll attend the meeting.” Gorinna stood and stretched, humming a pleased sound. “Gorinna…” He glanced away, staring out the pleasant hut. “...are you to attend?”

His mate paused. A short and disgruntled huff escaped her. “...No. It is to thank you.” Tagaan turned and folded his arms. Gorinna flicked her ears forth and knelt, straightening their bedroll. “...and you deserve that thanks. Truly.”

“Gorinna…” Tagaan lowered his gaze. Unease stirred his gut. “You should be there.” He clenched his palm and released it. “I want you to be there.”

She waved idly, turning to her morning grooming. “No, no. Don’t fret about it.” Her fingers paused their careful braiding. “It’s likely naught but uninteresting male business anyways.”

Tagaan huffed and knelt beside her. Digging his snout into her shoulder, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed gently. “That isn’t important. What matters to me is if  _ you _ wish to attend.” He rubbed her arms gently. “And you have not declared your preference.”

Gorinna grabbed his hand and leaned into him. A soft, quiet laugh shook her. “Oh, Tagaan…” Her ears drooped, and she looked away. “...Yes. I would attend, if allowed.”

Tagaan released her and stood, ears wiggling happily. “Good! Then we will attend.” Pivoting sharply, he scooped up his kilt and fastened it. “Finish your grooming. I will wait outside!” He strode from the tent and stepped into the misty morning, Gorinna’s anxious huff following him. Tagaan paused and breathed deep, closing his eyes and enjoying the crisp morning air. ‘ _ To celebrate my victory…’  _ He opened his eyes and balled his fists. ‘ _ Yet deny my mate’s attendance? The reason I fought, herself?’  _ Humor flicked his ears gently. ‘ _...maybe mother is right. Maybe the old ways  _ are _ a bit ridiculous.’  _ He folded his arms, basking in the half-lidded sunlight. ‘ _ No matter...no matter.’  _ Determination set his jaw painfully tight. ‘ _ She  _ will  _ be attending. Not a one of them will deny me. And if they do…’ _ He flexed his hands, anger simmering in preparation. ‘ _...they will  _ not.  _ Whether by  _ my _ will or  _ theirs, _ they will not.’ _

Tension slowly burnt away. Tagaan relaxed his shoulders and looked idly over the verdant woodlands. ‘ _ One would hardly think these woods harbor human swine at  _ all _ , let alone their un-living aberrations.’  _ He sniffed and dug his hooves. ‘ _ Far too pretty. Far too peaceful.’  _ Gentle wind tickled his face. Tagaan scratched his chin softly. ‘ _ Can’t have been here too long, then. Humans ruin everything they touch.’  _ The warrior languidly turned about, watching the swaying branches and fluttering birds. ‘ _ This land...I must protect it from them. I must be it’s guardian. It’s steward.’  _ A soft rap of hoof on dirt perked his ears up. Gorinna exited the small hut, a simple and comfortable shawl covering her modesty. She shook herself and looked around. “Tagaan...please do not misunderstand, but…” She approached and linked an arm through his. “ _... _ Is it really wise for me to join? Really, it is no…”

Tagaan set his forehead against hers and wiggled his ears. “You said you would join.” He nuzzled her gently. “And so, you will attend.” Tagaan pulled away and stretched his neck. “...No matter what anyone else may think.” 

Gorinna grumbled and adjusted her shawl. “...There is no need to make trouble…”

“No. There is a need.” Tagaan threw her a sidelong glance. “My mate wishes it. And so it is something I need.” Gorinna lightly struck his shoulder. Chuckling softly, Tagaan nudged her. “Come now, surely you understand. Your wants are my needs, and your needs are my goals.”

Gorinna stuck her ears forth. “Really? And what of your goals and needs?”

Tagaan huffed a quiet laugh and walked out. “They are nothing, before yours.” 

Gorinna flicked her ears back, admonishment heavy in her voice. “Nonsense. You may pledge yourself to my goals, but I cannot pledge to yours?” She bumped him. “That is hardly fair. I wish for you to be happy as well, you know.”

Tagaan rolled his eyes and sighed. “I can’t win with you, can I?” Gorinna sniffed imperiously, ears wiggling lightly. “You know, you should be a  _ good _ woman, and let me feel manly.”

“Ha!” Gorinna pinched his side. “I thought ‘manliness’ was overcoming adversity.” The pair passed a heavy palisade of sharpened stakes. Salutes exchanged between Tagaan and a sentinel. “Should it not be my  _ duty _ then, to challenge you?” Gorinna gripped his right hand with hers, firmness betraying her nerves. Tagaan flicked his ears back. ‘ _ I do not like her unease. Would I could throttle it…’  _ They continued, meandering up the mountainous kin-lands. Gorinna flicked her ears uncomfortably. “Really...it seems you males ask the opposite of your wants.”

Tagaan huffed a soft laugh, voice distracted and forced. “Yes...well.” Squeezing her hand, he glanced away and worked his jaw. “We need to...you know.” He rolled his shoulders and exchanged a salute with a passing warrior. “Keep you guessing. You’d get bored otherwise, sitting in your huts all day.”

Gorinna pushed him, staggering his stride. “Never. Fretting over your…” A short pause stopped her. She sighed and nuzzled his cheek. “...hunts, and fights…” Her voice quieted. “...the worry alone is task enough for the day.”

The Moon Cave of Elders neared, slowly emerging amidst the heavy vegetation. Two Moon warriors idled outside. Tagaan saluted them and approached. The left warrior held his palm up, hesitation lowering his ears. “Hold there. The summons is for you, outsider.” Tagaan grit his teeth. Nervousness flicked the Warrior’s ears. “She may not enter.”

Tagaan bared his teeth. “She  _ is  _ me.” He pointed firmly. Gorinna warbled a quiet and worried sound. The warrior glanced to his companion. “Her and I are one. If you have some complaint about it…” His hoof scraped methodically. A puff of hot, angry air depleted his lungs. “...you are free to challenge me, and prove your correctness.”

A low, uneasy bay warbled the Moon Warrior’s throat. His companion remained silent, shifting tensely over his hooves. “We...I…” He flexed his palms and flicked his ears. “...Our chieftain...he said…”

“Then I will speak to him!” Tagaan stepped forward, lowering his horns and narrowing his eyes. “Let me pass, and claim my truth!” Dirt sprayed behind his angry hoof. Gorinna hesitantly gripped his arm. Tagaan’s searing anger cooled. He snorted and shook his horns slightly, easing his body and raising his head. “...just let me and my mate pass, kinsman.” The warrior flicked his ears curiously. “I swear I will tell your chieftain you tried to stop us.”

Tense quiet grew between them. Both Moon warriors shifted uneasily. Visible hesitation gripped them. A long moment passed, and the speaking warrior flicked his ears stiffly forward. “...Fine. We tried to stop you. We did not disobey our chieftain.” He shuffled aside and gestured broadly. “Go.”

“Thank you.” Tagaan spoke softly, wrapping an arm around Gorinna’s shoulders and gently guiding her towards the cave. Passing the threshold, they stopped before the Moon clanstone. Tagaan knelt and withdrew his knife, deftly slicing a thumb and offering his blood. Warm acknowledgment flit over him. Tagaan flicked his ears happily and gestured for Gorinna’s hand. Her hand gently pushed his away, and she knelt beside him. Gorinna deliberately gripped a small knife strapped under her smock, and loosened it. Ears tucked back and breath slow, she cut her palm. Blood welled. Tagaan worried his jaw. ‘ _ They  _ must  _ agree with me...how could they not?’  _ Gorinna drew a shaky breath and offered her blood. A moment passed, and the tension flooded from her body. Ears perking high, she leaned back and stood. ‘ _ Ha! Of course they would!’ _

Tagaan followed her, his own ears held high. He gestured to the tapestry shrouded Hall of Elders. “Let us go then.” Gorinna stilled her ears and flicked them forth. Breathing deeply, Tagaan enfolded her again and walked on. He reached out and parted the serene fabric, revealing five figures speaking softly around an ornately decorated skull. 

Thin blue light filled the ancient sockets, and Tagaan felt scrutiny fall over him. Naanfa stood near an unassuming male and a towering goliath. A shriveled old male sat against the wall, watching the scene through half-lidded eyes. Naanfa turned from a heavily beshawled woman, presumably the Moon clan shaman, and met Tagaan’s glance. “Tagaan! Noble son of…” Eyes trailing to Gorinna’s hesitant form, his words died. Sudden tension tightened his shoulders. Quiet whispers churned between Naanfa’s council. Tagaan clenched his jaw. ‘ _ Here we go…’  _ Naanfa straightened up and spoke, voice cautious and low. “Return to your home Gorinna.” He pointed softly towards the entrance. “You are not…”

Tagaan stepped between the two, filling his chest and steeling his courage. “She will not.” Eyes narrowing dangerously, Naanfa lowered his arm. “ _ I _ invited her here.” Tagaan willed his body to relax. “She was instrumental to my victory, and so she should be present at its celebration.”

The largest Khazra rolled his shoulders and lifted his head. “That is not for you…” 

“Silence!” Naanfa pressed a hand on the giant’s chest. “I will speak for myself.” The chieftain drew a deep breath and steadied himself. “Gorinna is not shaman. She may not enter this sacred place.” Anger simmered beneath his words. “And it is  _ not _ your place to decide exceptions.”

Tagaan loosened his jaw. ‘ _ Think...breathe...be calm…’  _ Breathing deeply, he pressed a palm over his heart. “Noble chieftain…” Naanfa flicked his ears, hesitance and caution obvious. “Gorinna is my mate, as you likely know.” He flicked his ears forward. “Her heart is as mine, and mine is as hers.” Gently grabbing Gorinna’s hand, he pulled her even with himself. “She expressed a wish to attend this meeting, and so I feel the same desire.” Naanfa shifted uneasily. Wetting his lips briefly, Tagaan lowered his head. “Please, chieftain. Allow me this boon.”

His words faded into silence. Tagaan kept his head lowered for several breaths before rearing up. Naanfa champed his teeth pensively. The giant folded his arms and stepped back. A hand emerged from the shaman’s shawl and tapped her chieftain’s shoulder. Naanfa leaned over, flicking an ear and apparently listening intently. Ears rolling indecisively, he straightened up. Naanfa cleared his throat and shifted his ears forward. “Very well.” Tension fled Tagaan’s heart. His ears involuntarily fell forth. “As reward for your courage, I shall allow this.” Gorinna squeezed his palm. Tagaan returned her grip before slinging an arm around her shoulders. Naanfa blew a heavy breath and continued. “That decided, let us attend to our original purpose.” His ears relaxed, falling forward happily. “Our clan is truly in your debt, noble son of Eabo. If there is some way we might repay you, you have but to ask.” A soft chorus of agreement passed through his council. “Within reason, we will do what we can.”

Tagaan saluted and hugged Gorinna to him. “No repayment is needed, noble chieftain.” Naanfa pulled his ears back curiously. “I did nothing but aid kin.” Contemplatively folding his arms, Naanfa slowly flicked his ears forth. “Gorinna is my mate. I am forever entwined to the Moon now. Even beyond that…” Tagaan clenched his palm and held it out. “...Even beyond that, I am khazra. Humans harmed khazra, and khazra rose against them.” Firm flicks threw ears forward. “I fought for kin, for that is what we are. Even beyond clans, even beyond lineage, we are khazra.” He opened his palm and looked over the strong lines of his labor. “A strike to one is a blow to all. Unity is strength.” He snapped his eyes back to the approving gaze of Naanfa. “The humans have bit  _ us _ , and  _ we _ will not lie down and accept it.” Naanfa’s ears pressed forward. “ _ We _ will stop their aggression. The humans have attacked us and defiled our ancestors.” Tagaan slammed his fist over his powerful chest and thrust his ears firmly. “Such blasphemy cannot go unanswered! I know I intend to hunt these wretches, and find their chieftain.” He lowered his arm and looked around, meeting each khazra’s eyes. “ _ Someone _ commanded those humans.  _ Someone _ wished us to fight their battle, and sent warriors to break our spirit.” 

Gorinna’s arm tucked around his back and squeezed. The Moon shaman murmured an approving sound. Tagaan paused, allowing the anticipation to build. “... _ someone _ , failed. The khazra will  _ never _ be broken.” He clenched his fist and slowly scraped his hoof. “The humans are fools to think us broken. The humans are fools to think us so easily leashed to their will!” Tagaan ground his hoof deep, dispelling some of his building indignation. “I intend to find whoever this  _ someone _ is, and hunt them for their despoilment. For the crimes they have committed...for the terror and pain they have caused my kin…” He glanced away, wrestling his rising emotion down. “...They must die. They must die, and I will be the hand of doom.” He returned his gaze to Naanfa and pressed his ears forth. “If you wish to give me another boon...if you wish to reward my actions…” Tagaan paused and worked his jaw quietly. A heavy breath calmed his roiling heart. “...then join me. Let us hunt these interlopers. Let us show them the might of the Khazra. Let justice be my gift.” He saluted and lowered his head. Hooves scraped and stamped approvingly. Hearty mutters and firm flicks steeled his heart. “Thank you, brothers and sister. I leave on my hunt in some few days.” He turned and slowly exited the hall of elders. Pausing in the entryway, he spoke over his shoulder. “Let it be  _ our  _ hunt.”

Gorinna squeezed his chest tightly and pulled him out of the chamber. His mate leaned up to his ear and whispered encouragingly. “That was well spoken, my mate!” Tagaan pressed his ears forward, joy and resolve nearly radiating from him. “I think they agree with you.”

“Truly?” Tagaan jostled her gently. “Do you think they will join my hunt?”

The pair exited the cave, passing by the nervous looking warriors. Bright, cheery sunlight poured over them. Gorinna slowed their pace and laughed quietly. “They?” She rubbed his chest in light circles. “You made  _ me _ want to take up arms and hunt.”

  
Tagaan wiggled his ears and sighed. “Well, I don’t think that would be very hard.” He nudged her slightly, pushing them off the path and towards the deeper woods. “You are always spoiling for a fight.” Gorinna pinched him. Tagaan huffed a laugh and bumped his horns off hers. A retort built behind his lips, but the calm morning air stilled him. Gorinna inhaled deeply and adjusted her grip, wrapping him tighter in her arms. Their hooves continued a slow rhythm. Tagaan idly rubbed Gorinna’s arm. ‘ _ Hunting humans...something my father has done many a time.’  _ Four Moon clan hunters parted the brush near them. Short hails passed between the groups. Tagaan’s ears fell easy along his head. ‘ _ A grim task. A horrid task.’  _ His thumb circled Gorinna’s shoulder.  _ ‘But someone must do it, else they despoil all that we have.’  _ They continued their trail, walking the edge of the kinlands. Tagaan glanced aside, eyes falling over a small and cheery hut. Uneasy tension clenched his jaw. ‘ _ But...the humans too have kin. Family. I wonder…’  _ He looked away, ears twitching uncomfortably. ‘ _...how much of this bloodshed is because of protection, and how much is because of revenge…’  _ He shuddered, drawing away from the dark topic. Gorinna squeezed him, eyes searching his face. Tagaan bumped his forehead against hers and muttered a half-hearted platitude. ‘ _...Eabo, my greatfather...I pray I do the right thing.’  _ His ancestor remained silent. Tagaan twisted his ears in chagrin and continued his slow walk, preparing his heart for the grim task ahead.


End file.
